The One Where They Fell In Love
by Cupcakes Can Write Too
Summary: "Oliver Wood's a jock. Percy Weasley's a nerd. And in this one, they fall in love." Percy Weasley loves studying. Oliver Wood loves Quidditch. Percy's got his whole future planned out. Oliver doesn't even know when their Potions essay is due. From ages 11 to 15, they hated each other. And then- unfortunately- their fifth year dropped in to say hello. Hogwarts AU
1. The One Where Percy Was Rude

**So, fellow fans, I have quite possibly lost my mind a little... since I'm in the middle of another multi-chapter story and this is kind of coming from nowhere? Idk if anybody would seriously be interested in reading something about Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood... seems like the most ridiculous thing ever... but here we are because I saw something on Pinterest and this sounds like it has potential for greatness.**

**Anyways. This is an AU. Obviously. I haven't decided if Percy is still going to date Penelope Clearwater in his sixth/seventh year? I think? But the actual plot of Harry Potter- aside from half the stuff Percy does, probably- will still be the same. After writing this chapter, I've realized that these characters are a little OOC- at the moment. So I might just have them change from 1st to 5th Year- because everyone changes as they grow up- or I might leave them OOC. I haven't decided yet.**

**Also this is like a ship of Oliver and Percy, which I know sounds crazy but scroll to the bottom- where I typed the pin because links don't work on this website- and take a look at the pin if you're interested lol and you might be drawn in like I was.**

**Hopefully Tumblr serves me well?**

**Side note: Most chapters won't be this long- I just needed to cram a lot into their first year. But after this, they'll probably be closer to 5,000 words... not 8,000 like this one.**

**(Also this chapter opens in Molly's point of view because why not?)**

* * *

Chapter One- The One Where Percy Was Rude

First Year, September 1st

"Percy!" called Molly Weasley, struggling to keep track of all of her children. "Oh, no, Fred, George, _don't- _wait GET THAT SPIDER AWAY FROM RON!" she yelled, swatting away the poor creature- oh, did her sons love getting in trouble- and turned to the only one of her sons that was normal. She loved them all equally, but Percy was usually the easiest of the lot to tame. "Right, now, dear- _no, _Ginny, you can't eat that! Honestly, Fred, feeding your little sister a worm?" Molly scolded, turning her very best glare on her son. Turning back to Percy with a smile, she continued, ignoring the sound of squelching as one of her seven children stepped on the worm. "Have you got everything? Remember, I made you sandwiches-"

"Yes, I know, Mum, I'll eat them later. And I'll study hard, don't worry. See you at Christmas," said one of her taller red-headed children, leaning over the cart containing Charlie and Bill's trunks to kiss her on the cheek. Molly beamed at her son- already wearing his robes and everything!

"Bye, Mum," said Charlie, beckoning Bill over as he heaved Percy's trunk onto the train. "Please make my Christmas sweater blue this year?"

Molly grinned. "I'll try, dear," she promised, knowing full well that she was blatantly lying. Sweater colors were decided at birth and they weren't open for changes. "Promise me you'll stay out of trouble," she said more sternly, raising her voice a little. "I don't want to send any more Howlers." Charlie blanched a little.

"Yeah, of course, Mum," said her son quickly. He turned away, muttering to George, "You let a few nifflers loose in a classroom _one time."_

Molly grabbed Ginny's hand as her daughter squealed and nearly ran into the path of a high-speed trolley with a screeching owl on top of it. "Oh, Bill, you really should have let me cut your hair," Molly sighed, frowning at her son's shoulder-length locks.

Bill shook his head, grinning. "Not a chance, Mum."

"Oh, you _should, _Charlie!" said Fred enthusiastically. Molly rounded on Charlie, narrowing her eyes.

"Whatever the twins have just told you to do, Charles Weasley, don't you _dare!" _Molly said, grabbing Ron's hand now as he also nearly got hit by a trolley- dear God, what kind of maniacs were running around trying to behead her children?

"Come on, Mum, we were just telling him to do well on his exams!" said George innocently. An identical face popped out from behind him.

"And to send us a Hogwarts toilet seat after he'd done it," snickered Fred.

"Boys!" groaned Molly as four of her children started yelling at each other. Honestly... next year Arthur could drop off the kids.

The train blew its horn loudly. "All right, bye, Bill, don't do anything the twins have told you to do, Charlie, and bye, Percy, dear!" she yelled after her sons as they scurried onto the train. Her remaining children proceeded to cry after their siblings- well, in Ginny's case, at least- which was sweet but started getting on her nerves after a while. That combined with that horrible loud horn the train was blowing was enough to make her relieved when Arthur apparated in. "Here," she said, handing him Ron and Ginny's hands to hold.

"Oh, did I miss the boys?" Arthur said, disappointed. "Sorry, Molly, the boss wouldn't let me leave."

Molly grabbed Fred and George's hands and waved off their protests. "Mum, we're old enough to walk on our own-"

"You're old enough when I know for a fact that you won't try to run after the train as soon as I let you go," Molly cut in.

And they all watched as the Hogwarts Express rolled away for another year, the last of the billowing smoke behind it fading as they headed home.

* * *

First Year, September 1st

"Got everything, dear?" asked his mother. Oliver nodded impatiently, looking around at the huge station and the milling families saying goodbye.

"Is... is dad here?" Oliver asked quietly.

"He's busy today, Ollie," his mother said, looking away with that sad look in her gray eyes. Oliver looked as well, but all he saw was the gray ceiling of the platform above him.

His mother sighed, muttering something to herself that had his father's name in it. She pulled him in for another hug, grinning tiredly when Oliver finally pulled away. "Have fun at school, Ollie. Hogwarts... it's going to be one of your favorite places in the world."

Oliver rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I... am I still going to dad's for Christmas?" he asked hopefully, his heart sinking when his mother only looked at him sadly. She was sad so often now...

"You overheard us talking, didn't you?" his mom asked. Oliver nodded silently at his boots. "Sorry, Oliver, but he's going to be busy this year-"

"Busy?" Oliver said, looking up again and clenching his fists. His face was starting to turn red. "Every year, Mum? The last time I even went to his place was four years ago. He... he just doesn't want me around anymore, does he?" Oliver said, fighting the lump in his throat. He bit the inside of his cheek. He was _not _going to cry. Tears meant embarrassing emotions and everything... and Oliver didn't want that to be the case.

"Oliver-" his mother began, taking a step towards him. The train blew its steam whistle, and Oliver took the opportunity. He turned on his heel and ran, feeling his stomach twist guiltily at how sad his mother was going to be. But he kept running- it was lucky they'd already loaded his trunk. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and raced up the steps onto the train, stumbling into the corridor.

Eyes burning, he hardly noticed where he was going and smacked into someone a couple of inches taller than him. Stumbling back, he looked up slightly at a boy with dark red hair and huge, hazel eyes that blinked in surprise behind black glasses. As Oliver stared very bravely at the stranger's shoes, he saw that his robes were a tad too small for him. "So-sorry," he stuttered.

"Watch where you're going," said the boy snootily before Oliver had even completely regained his balance, brushing past him with his nose in the air.

Oliver wrinkled his nose at the boy, heading in the opposite direction from him just for the sake of it. The train jolted and Oliver nearly fell again, bracing himself against the wall as the train started to move. "Bye!" he could hear students waving to their parents, and he felt stupidly sad again that he'd abandoned his mother on the platform like that.

He stumbled into a compartment, saw the backs of waving sixth-years, and ducked out again, shutting the door before they'd even realized he was there.

Feeling even more awkward, Oliver continued down the train, looking in the small windows before stumbling into another wrong compartment. He paused at one that looked like it had kids his age inside and opened it, looking at them through the hair hanging over his eyes. "Hello," he said, looking around at two boys- one with blond hair and another tall black-haired one- and one sleeping girl with her head leaning on the window. "Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

The black-haired boy waved him inside. "We stole this from her, anyways. I don't think she knows we're here."

"Snores a ridiculous amount, though," commented the blond as Oliver sat.

"So," said the tall one. "I'm Adrian Yew. What about you?"

The blond introduced himself as Mike Quentin, and they both turned expectantly to Oliver. Oliver ducked his head and mumbled "Oliver Wood." Thankfully, they heard him- most people didn't. He looked out the window, wishing he'd gotten a seat next to it- the girl and Mike were on the opposite bench while Adrian was by the window on theirs. Metropolitan London was gone now and countryside rolled by outside.

"Can't believe we're going to Hogwarts, right? Personally, I want Ravenclaw," Mike said, acting as though they'd all been friends for years.

"Hmm... haven't really got a preference. My family are all Hufflepuffs, so I think I'd like to be something else- five siblings from the Yew family in one common room would be a disaster," grinned Adrian, flashing a crooked smile.

"I think I'd like Gryffindor," Oliver said. "Anything but Slytherin, honestly."

Silence fell over the compartment for a minute as everyone thought about what they'd been told and what minimal amounts of the war they remembered from years ago.

"Reckon I agree," Adrian said darkly. "Had an uncle in Slytherin about two decades ago... he said half of them were nutters and the other half were terrified of the nutters."

"It's crazy to think about... how it hasn't even been a decade since the war ended," said Mike quietly.

There was another silence at this, one where Oliver remembered his uncle on his father's side- he'd died in the war as well. He wondered if the others were thinking about that, too- they all seemed pureblood of half-blood at least and had probably lost relatives as well.

For a moment some kind of deja vu hit him and he thought about how weird it was to live in a world where everyone had lost relatives- that it was normal to have attended over ten or fifteen funerals in the last decade.

The silence was, thankfully, broken by the girl sitting next to Mike suddenly shooting up in her seat and making all three boys jump as well. She relaxed after a second, then looked around and started again. "Sorry..." she said incredulously. "Am I hallucinating or are there three boys sitting in my compartment?"

All three of them burst out laughing, even Oliver. Maybe it was possible to forget about his parents for a while, at least while he had Hogwarts and magic and new friends to entertain himself with. "No, we're actually here, sorry," Mike laughed. "I'm Mike."

She smiled at him and introduced herself as Sam. "Not Sammy, not Samantha," she cautioned them.

"Okay, Not-Sammy, I'm Adrian," the other boy said.

"I'm Oliver," Oliver said, starting to lift his hand out of his pocket to wave. He stopped himself, realizing that would probably look very stupid.

"All right, now that I know your names, we're best buds and I'm stealing all of your food," Sam announced. Everyone roared with laughter again, and Adrian pulled out some chocolate.

Oliver eagerly held out his hand. "If chocolate is involved, then I'm joining your heist," he announced. To his relief, everyone laughed at his joke and Adrian handed him a big piece. Biting into it, he watched as Mike began to talk.

"All right, what were we talking about?" Mike asked, stuffing the whole piece in his mouth at once.

"The war..." Adrian said, trailing off as their candy turned sour in their mouths.

Oliver noticed that Sam paled, her face white against her golden curls. Quickly, he decided to step in, still looking at Sam. "Let's talk about something happier. The war's over, and we're going to _Hogwarts, _right, so we have a ton to be worried about," Oliver joked. Maybe Sam had just lost someone very close to her or something. Talk of the war made a lot of people uncomfortable.

"Yeah," Mike said a little more seriously, "I heard we have to do some super-hard spell to get sorted," he said, leaning forward and whispering conspiratorially as if this was a huge secret.

Adrian burst out laughing. "God, who lied to you?" he asked between chuckles.

Mike looked annoyed. "No one," he countered. "It's true-"

"That's a load of rubbish," Adrian said, chuckling. "We have to fight two mountain trolls," he said, becoming serious very abruptly.

Mike paled, and Oliver struggled not to burst out laughing. "It's true, Mike," Oliver said sympathetically.

As Mike turned slightly green, Sam whacked Adrian, then Oliver over the head with a copy of the _Daily Prophet _that Oliver hadn't noticed she had. Adrian ducked down, wincing, and so did Oliver. "Stop scaring the poor bloke!" she scolded.

Oliver couldn't resist it- he started laughing, and then all of them did, even Mike, who finally realized his leg was being pulled.

As they finally sobered up, Adrian said between slight giggles, "I don't know what it is we have to do, but we're sure as hell not fighting mountain trolls," he said, and that set them off again.

"And even if we do," Sam said, "We're sacrificing Adrian first, right?"

Oliver nodded. "Absolutely," he assured her quite seriously.

And they went on for ages, describing various odd scenarios that they'd have to do.

By the time they got off the train, they were debating between hexing Dumbledore- "They wouldn't make us hurt the headmaster!" Mike protested- and jumping into the lake as a test- "But the squid's down there," said Adrian with a measure of fear.

Oliver didn't care what it is was- if all these generations of kids could do it, then surely he could as well- but as they were approached by Hagrid to board the boats, he had this warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

Something told him he'd just made some friends- maybe some really good friends.

"Firs' years!" Hagrid called. They all shuffled up to him and he led them to the boats as Adrian and Sam continued bickering in whispers. Mike skirted around them and started walking next to Oliver.

"I bet you they're dating by sixth year," Mike said in a whisper, looking back at the arguing kids. Oliver gave them a good, long look and shook his head.

"Ten galleons on fifth year," he said confidently.

"That's not fair, that gives you five years to work with!"

"How about we only pay up if it happens during those year? First, second, third, fourth, or seventh and the deal's off," Oliver said.

Mike shrugged. "As of when we're sixteen, you will be ten galleons poorer," he announced. Oliver rolled his eyes but grinned.

The boat journey was amazing- and Hogwarts was _beautiful. _All those towers and turrets and everything- Oliver almost expected it to have a moat. It didn't, of course, and they trekked across the grassy field in front of it to reach two large doors.

As Hagrid knocked, everyone went back to talking. Sam was shaking out her hair from where Adrian had nearly pushed her off the boat and glaring at said boy, who was slowly backing away from her scary expression.

Oliver laughed at the pair of them and raised an eyebrow at Adrian. "You shouldn't let her get near you after she learns how to use a wand," he advised.

Adrian looked at Oliver fearfully. "Mate, I don't think I want her near me _now, _either."

The door swung open and everyone immediately stopped talking as they were met by the stern face of Professor McGonagall. She advised them to clean themselves up a little and led them into the Entrance Hall to wait.

"This school's just a lot of waiting, isn't it?" said Sam, tapping her foot impatiently.

Mike shrugged. "I mean, it's got secret passages, so..."

Adrian lit up. "Secret passages?"

Before Mike could elaborate, McGonagall showed up again and everyone shut their mouths.

Exchanging nervous glances, they all headed into the Great Hall. It was huge, with candles hovering in the air above them. Oliver felt very small in front of the gaze of thousands of older, smarter, and taller students. There were four long tables of gawking kids, and there they were in the middle.

McGonagall, who was leading the group, set a stool on the ground at the front of the room, then went off to sit at the high table, which had all of the teachers sitting there. Oliver craned his neck to try to get a glimpse of the legendary Dumbledore, but jumped when the hat started _singing. _

Oliver exchanged a very confused glance with Sam and turned back to watch as it sang about houses and sorting and Hogwarts. As it finished, he clapped with the rest and shook his head in disappointment. "After everything we were talking about this afternoon, I wanted it to be something more exciting," he said, albeit relieved. Putting a hat on his head was much easier than some of the things they'd dreamed up.

"Hey, it was this or mountain trolls," Adrian said out of the corner of his mouth, grinning.

Oliver shook his head, laughing.

Students started getting called up, trying on the Hat, and getting sorted. The first from their group was Sam, right at the beginning. "Avery, Samantha!" McGonagall called, and Sam stepped up to the Hat, looking small amidst all of the older students. She jammed it on her head and the Hall waited as it debated over her.

Nearly thirty seconds later, it made its decision. "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, and Sam tugged it off with a huge grin, skipping off to the Gryffindor table. Mike, Adrian, and Oliver clapped with the rest, cheering.

On and on it went, until Mike's name was called. His face looked slightly green as he shot Oliver a fearful glance and trudged across the hall. But he really had nothing to worry about- the hat announced him as a Gryffindor the moment it touched his head.

Oliver clapped and cheered for him as well, his stomach a fluttery mess as he realized that the W's weren't far off now. Occasionally, the swarms of butterflies were interrupted by a grumble of hunger as his eyes passed over all the empty plates in front of the students around him.

"Weasley, Percy!" called McGonagall after a few more minutes, and Oliver narrowed his eyes as he saw the rude boy from the train saunter up to the hat and set it on his head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Ugh," Oliver muttered, clapping half-heartedly with the rest.

And then, scarcely twenty seconds later, after two more kids had been sorted- "Wood, Oliver!"

Oliver gulped and shuffled across the hall as Adrian shot him a reassuring glance. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he left the crowd of students and stood alone in front of the hat. He slowly picked it up and sat on the stool, grateful when it slid over his head and the brim blocked the stares of the whole hall. "Ah," said the Hat, and Oliver jumped. "You've got some ambition here, Slytherin wouldn't be a bad fit... Hufflepuff would suit you as well- I see loyalty in your head."

Oliver's heart was racing. _Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor... _he thought furiously, scrunching his eyes shut.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat announced obligingly, and Oliver couldn't help but grin as he tugged it off and put it back on the stool. His heart leaped as everyone cheered for him, and he dropped into a seat across from Mike and next to Sam at the Gryffindor table, his face breaking into an even larger grin as the cheering went on.

Everything seemed to move very fast after that. Adrian was swiftly sorted into Gryffindor, and before Oliver knew it- still basking in the happiness of his Sorting- Dumbledore was standing up and motioning for silence.

A hush fell over the hall as the tall, silver-haired wizard smiled at them all. "Another year at Hogwarts! Ah, it pleases me to see all of you again. I look forward to seeing you all learn and grow- and, of course, enjoy our Hogwarts feasts!" With a flourish, he waved his wand, and food appeared on all the plates in front of them.

Oliver didn't hesitate. He piled chicken and bread and slices of pie onto his plate as the murmurs of talking began once more in the Great Hall. "So that was Dumbledore," Mike said musingly. "Sort of... underwhelming?"

Oliver looked reproachfully at him. "But he's such a powerful wizard!"

"Yes, but apparently he wears bonnets to Christmas feasts," Sam giggled.

None of them could contain their laughter at that.

* * *

First Year, September 1st

On the other end of the Gryffindor table sat two other kids- Percy Weasley and Anthony Fawcett. At the moment, Percy was gazing adoringly up at Dumbledore and rambling on to a glassy-eyed Anthony about how he was going to become Minister of Magic after he graduated. "-and, of course, I'm planning on trying to fix the Statute of Secrecy by-laws, they're really quite old-fashioned and don't accommodate modern Muggle technology-"

"Percy?" Anthony said through a mouthful of treacle tart. "Give it a rest, mate, it's only been an hour since we got here. How about we worry about more urgent things instead? Such as how many treacle tarts I can shove in my mouth at once."

Percy raised an eyebrow. He'd known Anthony before coming to Hogwarts- they lived in the same neighborhood- but they'd met on the train and sort of reconnected again. But Anthony was turning out to be just like everyone else- disinterested in Percy's 'blabbering'. "All right," Percy sighed. "I bet it's not more than two."

Anthony grinned cheekily and set to work. "It's six!" he announced proudly as Percy rolled his eyes and picked at his chicken.

The time flew by as Percy relaxed a little more and started talking to Anthony. It turned out that the blond-haired, brown-eyed boy had more in common with Percy than he'd originally thought- and Percy was glad to hope that they could really be friends.

Before he knew it, Dumbledore was dismissing them all- "Can you imagine being as powerful as Dumbledore?" Anthony said dreamily- and they were following a Prefect across the Great Hall.

Percy turned to Anthony as they went. "Do you know when they give us schedules? I hope we don't have too many classes with the Slytherins," Anthony shuddered.

"Next morning, I think. And I ag-" Percy hurriedly caught himself against the edge of the table as a boy slightly shorter than him knocked into him. "Oh it's you," he scoffed, brushing off his robes. "Honestly, how many times are we going to knock into each other?"

The boy looked coldly at him. "As many times as it takes for you to stop being clumsy," he said with a shrug, blue eyes already flicking away to a tall, black-haired boy who was waving him over.

"Who was that?" Anthony asked as they entered the drafty Entrance Hall and began making their way up the marble staircase.

"Oh, just some idiot from the train," Percy said coolly. "Anyways, what were we talking about?"

Within minutes, they'd arrived at Gryffindor tower. "This is the entrance to our common room," said the Prefect. Percy wasn't that much shorter than him, but his gleaming badge and brand-new robes were intimidating on their own- at least for Percy. The Prefect was pointing at a painting of a lady that was... slightly overweight. "This is the Fat Lady." There were some sniggers. "Just tell her the password and she'll let you in to the common room. Now, the password's _Amortentia." _

With that, the portrait swung open and everyone clambered through, oohing and aahing at the common room. "Looks like this is where we're living for the next seven years," Anthony said, looking admiringly at the cozy red chairs and warm, candlelit glow.

"Boys dormitories are up there," the Prefect said, pointing to a staircase on the left side of the room. "Girls are right up there," he said, pointing to another staircase that began a few yards off from the first. "All right, up you go. Breakfast's at eight, and you've got classes tomorrow- don't stay up too long!" he called after them as everyone began stumbling over each other to reach the staircases.

Percy and Anthony took their time- "We'll get stampeded if we go now,"- and were one of the last people to make their way up to the dormitories.

When they entered their room at the very top of Gryffindor tower, they found that there were three boys already in it. "I'm Adrian Yew," said the black-haired one Percy had seen in the Great Hall.

"Percy Weasley," he said. "And, you are?" he asked another blond boy.

"Mike Quentin, and this is Oliver Wood," said the boy with a grin, pointing at the boy from the train Percy had been repeatedly running into.

He was currently crouching over a pile of trunks. "Here's yours, Mike, and I think this is mine?" said Oliver Wood. "Oh, no, is there an Anthony Fawcett in here?" Anthony came forward and hefted up his trunk- and then nearly dropped it on Percy's foot.

He yelped and jumped back. "I think I'd like to be able to walk to class tomorrow, mate," Percy said, glaring at the offending trunk.

"Need some help?" asked Oliver Wood in what looked like a decidedly shy manner. Anthony accepted it gratefully and the two managed to drag it to a bed near the doorway.

Adrian headed off to the bathroom, and Mike stood staring between two beds near the window. "Left or right?" he asked Percy. "I can't decide."

Percy tilted his head in thought. "I'll take right, if that's okay?"

"Sure," Mike grinned. "So, Percy- you're what? The fourth Weasley at this school?"

Percy sighed as he dramatically flopped onto the bed he'd chosen, pushing back the hangings. "Third," he said. "And there are four more to come."

Mike's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

"I'm not really much for jokes," Percy assured him.

"Are all of you as cool as I've heard Charlie and Bill are?" Adrian asked, emerging from the bathroom. Percy frowned.

"If you knew what I know about them, you wouldn't think they were cool," Percy said, remembering the time Charlie had thought it would be funny to nearly burn Percy's Hogwarts letter. "You'd think they were crazy."

"But Charlie Weasley's the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen," Adrian said pointedly. "I don't think it matters if he's crazy, mate- it just matters how good he continues to be at Quidditch."

"Nah," Percy said. "Charlie once caught a cornish pixie and brought it into our house. Then it nearly bit Ginny's finger off."

There was a bit of a silence. "You know, Percy, I think this conversation means that we're friends now," said Mike cheerily after a few moments.

Percy's face split into a grin. "As long as you help me study."

Mike and Adrian laughed. "I thought you said you weren't much for jokes," Mike said.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't joking."

* * *

First Year, September 2nd

Oliver was late. Dreadfully late.

Breakfast had been quick- they'd even left _early. _And, now, here they were- looking for Snape's classroom twenty minutes after the class had started. "Oliver, we already looked over here," Sam sighed.

"Yeah, I think we'd better try that way," Mike said, pointing to another corridor.

"That one looks too scary to have a potions classroom in it-"

"Oh, don't be a wimp, Adrian, we've looked everywhere else!"

Oliver heard a meow. "Guys," he said with mounting horror, turning to see Mrs. Norris staring at them. "We may have a problem."

"Run!" Sam yelled, and they turned to do just that and came face to face with Filch.

"Ah, first years cutting class, I see," drawled the caretaker, looking far too pleased to have students to punish. Oliver paled as Professor Snape emerged from the very same corridor Adrian had said was scary- now that the hook-nosed teacher was coming from it, it certainly _was _terrifying.

"I'll take care of this, Argus," Snape said, looking even more happy to have caught them like this. "I just wanted to let you know that there's been a bit of a disturbance a few classrooms down. Something about a potion spill?"

Filch trudged off, muttering underneath his breath about unfairness. "Now," Snape said, turning to them and narrowing his eyes. "Where have you all been?"

Oliver gulped. "We got lost, sir," he said in a small voice.

"Lost? Well, I certainly hope you'll be able to find your way to the detention you're getting tonight," Snape sneered.

As Oliver stifled a groan- detention on his _first day? _Really?- a redhead swept around the corner of the corridor, looking as important as ever. "Have you found him, Professor Snape? I- what are you all doing here?" Percy asked, cutting himself off mid-sentence as he took in the scene.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. Return to the classroom," Snape ordered, waving all five of them off. They didn't hesitate, hurrying behind Percy.

"Have you all got detention?" Percy asked when they were out of earshot of Snape.

Adrian nodded. "And it's not like it's fair, they didn't give us a map to this place- and it's a literal castle."

Percy shrugged and paused next to the door. "This is the classroom. In case you guys get lost again."

"Shouldn't we... go inside?" Oliver asked.

"We would, but class is about to end, so-" And then came the bell and, with it, a swarm of students pouring out of the door. They all shuffled back to let everyone pass.

"Technically, we did cut class, then," Oliver said, half-joking but half-miserable. "Who were you looking for?" he asked Percy, trying to change the subject.

Still frowning and looking as though he wasn't very happy about answering, he said, "The caretaker- Argus Filch. Professor Snape wanted to talk to him."

Mike shook his head. "I was actually looking forward to Potions."

"With that git that just gave us detention?" Adrian raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should be saying that about teachers," Percy said pointedly.

"Come off it, we've got detention on the first day thanks to him!" Oliver said more forcefully than he usually said anything, feeling a little foolish when Percy only frowned.

As all the students passed, they began to follow. Percy caught up to Anthony Fawcett- a boy Oliver had met yesterday in their dormitories- and they began talking- all the boys plus Sam.

"Oh, who is this?" asked Anthony as Sam came up next to Adrian.

"I'm Sam," she said with a smile. "You're Anthony Fawcett, right?"

Anthony nodded, but Percy was squinting at Sam as if there was something about her he couldn't work out. "What's your surname?"

Oliver thought Sam looked a little pale as she said "Avery."

Percy's eyes widened, and he took a little step back, falling back into conversation with Anthony but occasionally shooting suspicious glances at Sam. Oliver looked around, frowning, hoping to ask someone what was up with him- but no one else had noticed as Mike and Adrian started playing tug-of-war with Sam's bag and caused almost everything to spill out.

Oliver stooped to help clean it up, glaring at Adrian, who'd ripped the bag in the first place. As they shoved quills and parchment back into it, he frowned after Percy. Why was he so wary of Sam?

* * *

First Year, November 10th

"Queen to B3," said Adrian with a self-satisfied smirk. "Checkmate."

Oliver groaned and fell back against his chair. "That's the fifth time in a row!"

He could practically hear Adrian's grin. "Admit it. I'm the best at wizard's chess, Ollie."

Oliver sat up and shot Adrian a surly look. "Oh, yes, we all bow down to the king of telling pawns what to do," he said over-dramatically. They were relaxing in the common room on a cloudy afternoon, huddling by the fireplace as wind whistled outside the tightly shut windows in the tower.

In the few months that had passed since the school year had begun, Oliver had grown even closer to Mike, Adrian, and Sam. They went everywhere together, did everything together, and recently, they'd played way too much chess together.

His classes were fun- as fun as they could be with Snape constantly finding ways to punish them and McGonagall piling on the homework- his friends were great, and his favorite season- winter- was about to arrive. Life was great.

The only black mark on the horizon was Oliver's father- who hadn't replied to any of the five letters he'd sent him.

Trying not to think about that, he turned his attention to Adrian's gloating, about to tell him to put a sock in it. Three months ago, Oliver might have sat there quietly. But he was learning that he wasn't half as awkward as he'd thought himself to be, living in a small town miles from London for the first eleven years of his life with only his mother and a few other families for wizarding company. Everyone there had been older than him and had liked to make fun of him- but after making better friends, Oliver was starting to figure out that nobody here was going to tease him for talking more.

As he told Adrian to stop the gloating- and advised him to take a swim with the squid if he was that interested in acting like one- he winced at the sound of Percy Weasley's frantic reciting- which could be heard throughout the common room. "Doesn't that Weasley ever give it a rest?" Oliver groaned. "I swear, he acts like his NEWTS are tomorrow, the way he studies."

Adrian snorted. "By the sounds of it, he's listing potion ingredients. Our next Potions test is three weeks from now."

Percy Weasley was probably a nice kid. Really. But between the constant studying- which was _loud _and gave people _headaches- _and the annoying bossiness and know-it-all attitude, most of their year had decided to avoid him. Anthony Fawcett was sticking it out and being nearly as insufferable as Percy for it, but everyone else had taken a few steps back after attending about two classes with him and realizing that he was one of the worst teacher's pets to ever enroll at Hogwarts.

"All right, come on. I think it's time for dinner."

* * *

First Year, November 10th

Oliver stretched as he got up from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, making a face at the storm clouds hovering in the enchanted ceiling. He yawned as he looked around at all of his friends. "I don't want classes to start again tomorrow," he groaned. "Weekends must last forever."

"Unfortunately, the world doesn't work like that," Mike sighed. "Or else it'd be Christmas every day and I'd get presents all the time."

They all got up as Adrian continued the complaining for them. "I wish I could get excused from homework, at least," he grumbled.

"The only person who's ever going to get excused from homework is Harry Potter," Sam said pointedly. They all laughed but went quiet as they passed out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, thoughts of the war invading their heads again.

"He's only, what, six?" Oliver asked. "Harry Potter, I mean."

"I know," Sam said, shaking her head. "How'd he defeat You-Know-Who?" she said in a small voice. "When he was only one year old?"

"Who knows?" Adrian asked. "Just thank Merlin that he did."

"Oh, I don't know, Adrian, I bet your _friend _there knows a bit more about the war than you do," said a voice from behind them. They turned to find Percy Weasley glaring at Sam.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked. At this point, more people were gathering around to watch as Percy and Anthony, of course, right next to him, faced against Oliver, Sam, Mike, and Adrian.

"I _mean _her family. Her surname. I thought for sure you'd know by now?" Percy asked, looking somewhere between smug and shocked.

"No," Adrian said, the look on his face unreadable. "I _don't _know what you mean."

"Avery. It's a pureblood surname, they're on the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Not to mention it's either her father or her uncle who's serving a life sentence in Azkaban," Percy scoffed. "They're Death Eaters, the lot of them."

Oliver's heart skipped a beat as everyone- him, Mike, Adrian, and all the kids watching- turned to look at Sam, some accusing and some curious. Sam looked petrified. "I-" she stammered, looking back and forth between them and Percy, who was staring her down as if this was a duel.

"Sam? Is this true?" Adrian asked fiercely.

Sam took one look at the expression on his face, turned on her heel, and _sprinted _down the hall and up the stairs before anyone else could move.

There was another silence as everyone comprehended what had just happened.

Then, a lot of things happened at once. Adrian, after hesitating for a few moments, ran after her, Mike drew his wand, and the entire crowd gasped as Oliver took two steps forward and slapped Percy Weasley across the face.

"What the _bloody _hell?!" Percy screamed as the crowd grew larger and larger. Oliver's fists were clenched- it would be _so _easy to punch him at this point- and he felt a hot bubble of anger in his stomach. There was a red mark blossoming across his face, and the look of incredulity on his face gave Oliver some measure of satisfaction.

"You deserved it," Oliver said in a low voice, surprised by how angry he really was- and how scary he sounded, to himself at least. "Sam's _not _a Death Eater! That was a horrible thing to do, _Weasley," _he spat his surname out like it was poison on his tongue.

"Oh, are we doing surnames now? Fine, _Wood, _I'm going to McGonagall!" Percy yelled, two bright spots of color blooming on his cheeks.

"I don't care," Oliver said fiercely, turning to leave. "Go ahead, be a snitch. I'm going to go make sure that my _friend _is okay," he said with a last glare over his shoulder.

Even as he hurried up the steps with Mike, his hands remained clenched into fists and his expression remained furious. "Oliver," Mike said, panting as they reached the top of the steps. "That was the greatest thing I've ever _seen!" _

Oliver managed a grim smile. "It was satisfying," he admitted. "But you don't think Sam is really...?"

Mike immediately shook his head. "Maybe that's her family. But she's not her father."

Oliver nodded as they rushed to Gryffindor tower. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure anyone has ever really told her that," he sighed.

They reached the Fat Lady, stammered out the password, and rushed into the portrait hole to find Adrian and Sam standing by the fireplace, Sam looking on the verge of tears.

Oliver sprinted over. "You all right, Sam?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I- none of you hate me now, right?" she asked desperately, looking more distressed than Oliver had ever seen her.

"Of course not," Mike said as if it was obvious. "We would never hate you. That prat Weasley has no idea what he's talking about," he said with a glare off into the distance.

Adrian nodded vigorously. "You're our friend, Sam. We're not going to hate you because of your family."

Sam gave them a watery smile. "Thanks, guys," she said, and they all hugged her at once.

After pulling back a little awkwardly, they sat by the fireplace quietly for a while, everyone thinking. As the shock wore off from everything, Oliver was starting to feel utterly terrified. "Mike, McGonagall's going to expel me!"

Mike looked up with a goofy grin. "I reckon she'll just take off a few points, maybe give you a detention," he said reasonably. "But, still, Ollie- best thing I've ever seen!"

Oliver allowed himself a grin as well. "I think I'd do it again- just to see the look on his face," he snickered.

At that moment, the portrait hole swung open and Percy Weasley stumbled in- the red mark on his face even more pronounced than it was before. He shot Oliver a look of pure hatred before storming across the room and up into their dormitory.

"Now seems like a good time as any to ask," Adrian began, and Oliver turned his attention to him, a smile growing on his face once more. "What exactly did you do, Oliver?"

"He decked him across the face!" Mike piped up. "In front of the whole school!"

Sam sat up and looked incredulously at Oliver. "You did _what?" _

"It wasn't the whole school," Oliver protested.

"Mate, I wish I could have seen that!" Adrian groaned. "That's got to be the highlight of our first year- and I missed it!"

Sam burst into a fit of giggles. "I have never been prouder of you, Ollie," she said between laughs.

And then they were all laughing.

* * *

First Year, June 29th

Percy grabbed the ends of his shirt sleeves tightly, trying to warm up his cold hands- _how _he could be cold in June was beyond him, but he'd always been like this. He already missed his robes- and it had only been about five minutes since he'd gotten on the train.

The Hogwarts Express was heading back to London for the summer break- and Percy was both dreading it and anticipating it. His brothers and sister were absolutely _insane _and a pain to be around at the best of times, but he couldn't deny that he had missed them during his months at Hogwarts.

"Perce!" came the call from Anthony, who had presumably gotten them a compartment. That was certainly better than wandering these empty corridors.

"Coming!" Percy called back. He set off down the hall As he went, one of the doors next to him slid open and Oliver Wood and Mike Quentin tumbled out, nearly slamming into Percy. He could already feel himself bristling, just at the sight of them, and he knew it wasn't real, but his cheek seemed to feel prickly where Wood had slapped it.

Any mention of that incident was enough to make him fume, even nearly seven months after it had originally happened. He could still hear everyone's laughter in his ears, see that smug look on Quentin's face as he looked admiringly at Wood.

"What d'you want?" asked Wood nastily. Percy had once thought he was a quiet kid- _that _certainly hadn't turned out to be true.

"Can't a person walk here? You don't own the train, Wood," Percy said just as coldly.

Wood just sneered, and Percy's anger ignited again. They'd run into each other- sometimes literally- a few times since the day in the Entrance Hall, and every time it had ended with someone storming off- usually Percy as Wood used his single remaining brain cell to annoy the hell out of him.

"Don't act like you're so much better than me- it's not like _your _family's got enough money to buy the train," Wood said, ducking back into his compartment before Percy could respond.

That smarmy _git. _Percy resisted looking down at his threadbare shirt, storming off instead and hating the fact that his ears had undoubtedly turned red.

Next year, Percy was going to hex his socks off- and he didn't care how many House points he lost doing it.

* * *

**THE LEGENDARY PIN:**

**"percy weasley and oliver wood were in the same year and house at hogwarts, i don't know why it's taken me so long to realise this but**

**\- oh god they would be so annoying to live with**

**\- both total perfectionists but about different things**

**\- percy getting annoyed at oliver for revising his quidditch strategy when they had a test tomorrow**

**\- percy acting smug because he's head boy, oliver firmly believing that being quidditch captain is much more important**

**\- oliver happily aiding the twins in their pranks to get his own back at percy for not appreciating how important it is that he wins the cup**

**\- their dorm mates getting totally fed up of the two of them stressing tirelessly**

**\- 'oh my god we have an exam in three weeks i need to revise' ' oh my god i have a quidditch match soon and my team is not practicing hard enough'**

(NEXT PERSON)

**honestly, im surprised that none of the other gryffindor boys smothered them in their sleep**

(NEXT PERSON)

**Percy: MUD ON THE CARPET, MUD ON MY STAR CHART, MUD ON MY RAT-**

**Wood: But Quidditch**

**Percy: BUT ESSAYS?**

**Wood: I'm Quidditch Captain!**

**Percy: I'M HEAD BOY!**

**(Fred George and Lee in the dorm two years below take shots)**

(NEXT PERSON)

**... and suddenly I ship it."**

**Yeah... so that's the pin. This is what started the craziness. The story is going to take place mostly during their fifth year, so I'll just have four chapters for the four years before to lead up to it.**

**This is either going to be the worst thing I've ever written or the best thing.**

**My money's on worst. Let's hope that changes. If Drarry can be a thing that half the fandom ships... then this isn't even on the the list of top ten weirdest Harry Potter things lol. (No offense to anyone who ships Drarry tho)**

**Also did anyone see at the beginning where Molly refuses to change Charlie's sweater color? Idk, Ron's being maroon was like a HP inside joke so I wanted to put something about it in here lol.**

**Another note: PERCY IS NOT A JERK IN THIS STORY. If you read any part of this really long note- read that, please. I know he was really rude in this chapter, but keep in mind they're 11. Not only that, but as Oliver said, all of their year has already decided he's a know-it-all and everyone sort of resents him. Add that to him being sort of proud as a character, and then you get that scene where he's just being stupid. But he's not a horrible person, I promise. **

**Hope this chapter was enjoyable! The author's notes won't be so long next time- it's only long right now because it's the first chapter and I had some explaining to do. **

**See ya next time! Please review!**

**\- Cupcakes Can Write Too**


	2. The One Where Oliver Fell

**Hello, fellow fans- the craziness continues at Oliver and Percy's second year at Hogwarts! It's been a few weeks since the last update- sorry about that- I'm afraid to say this but I think updates will probably be sporadic for this story. But I'm still in love with the ideas I have and the characters I'm planning to develop so I'm not giving up (even if it's like three years between updates lol)**

**I think I will be doing review responses for this story, depending on how many reviews I actually get lol. Thank you to kikix for reviewing- I'm very honored someone is actually 'asdfghjkl'-ing about this story lol.**

**I'm keeping this author's note short.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Second Year, August 29th

"Aaannd the Quaffle's caught by Tom, passes to Avery, takes a shot- WOOD'S SAVED THE GOAL! YES!" Adrian screamed, holding a stick to his mouth like a microphone.

Oliver grinned, tossing the 'Quaffle'- which was a slightly squashed orange they'd found in Adrian's kitchen- back to Adrian as he dived back to the ground, relishing every turn of his new broomstick- the Nimbus 1000.

"That's the game, people, because Mum says it's time for dinner- WOOD'S TEAM WINS BECAUSE OF PURE AWESOMENESS!" Adrian yelled hurriedly, dropping his makeshift stick-microphone.

"OI! PURE AWESOMENESS DOESN'T WIN QUIDDITCH GAMES!" screeched Adrian's younger sister, Izzy. She was one of two Chasers on the Yew team, which rotated players based off of whose turn it was to take an afternoon nap.

There were quite a lot of flaws in the way they played Quidditch, mostly because of low resources- hence why the Quaffle was an orange- lack of teammates- Adrian only had so many siblings- and age- which was where afternoon naps came into play. And, of course, Adrian's mother liked waking them up at the crack of dawn to help around their farm, and they couldn't sleep all night because of all the fussy younger siblings running around.

Naturally, it was the best summer of Oliver's life.

"Yeah, Pipsqueak, I just like Oliver better than I like you," Adrian said very maturely, turning and running when Izzy made a violent attempt to dive-bomb him. "Mum's not giving you dessert!" he called over his shoulder.

Oliver landed on the ground, laughing after Adrian and his sister. "You should _really _try my broomstick tomorrow, Mike, there're only two days left of vacation!" Oliver reminded the other boy. Mike had spent all of the Quidditch games they'd played over the last couple of months reading in the grass- he claimed heights didn't work with him.

"Nope- that thing's terrifying," Mike said absentmindedly, still reading his book.

"DINNER!" came the call from Adrian's house. It was about four stories tall and narrow, but it was dwarfed by the huge, red barn down the dirt road. A tall woman stuck her head out the door- Adrian's mother. They'd all come to his house- Oliver, Sam, and Mike- at the beginning of July, and Oliver had loved every second of it.

Well, maybe not those couple of hours where they'd lost a chicken and had to chase after it across nearly all three acres of the farm- but most of it had been great.

Oliver sprinted over to the shed next to the house and carefully stepped over empty boxes and spools of wires and things to get to the back of it, where in a tall closet, the family stored their broomsticks. Oliver reverently placed his inside, still marveling at the fact that it was his- even two months after getting it. It was his most prized possession and he polished it about three times a week, if not four or even five- not to mention the fact that when he lied awake in the middle of the night, his head was filled with flying fantasies of the Quidditch Cups he would win, the Captain's badge he wanted to earn- even the pristine Quidditch gear that the England National team wore.

Quidditch had taken hold of Oliver years and years ago- and it wasn't going to loosen its grip anytime soon.

"OLIVER!" It was Adrian, screaming from somewhere- likely from all the way in his kitchen. Laughing, Oliver extracted himself from the pile of brooms and sprinted out of the shed, heading for Adrian's house with a spring in his step and Quidditch still in his head.

* * *

Second Year, September 1st

Oliver was in a very crappy mood that morning.

It began when Adrian's screaming siblings woke him up at 4:00 AM- then cried when he yelled at them for it. (He'd probably feel bad for that later, but right now he was so sleep-deprived and grumpy that it just wasn't happening.)

Then he burned his toast at breakfast because he left them in too long- and then broke the toaster by kicking it. And also had to clean up afterward- without magic since Adrian's mum was Muggle. Then, of course, he spilled his eggs and also tripped in the mess and ended up having to shower _again. _

And then as they were leaving for the train, his trunk split on the stairs and spilled all of his clothes, his broom, his textbooks- _everywhere. _And he had to clean it up, once more without magic.

As they came out of the house, it started pouring rain and soaked Oliver before he had a few seconds to turn and run for shelter.

So, all in all, they arrived at the train station with a soaking wet Oliver who was about ready to snap someone's head off.

"Hey, Oliver!" said fellow second-year George Smith.

Oliver offered a half-hearted wave at him and tried to quell the urge to kick something. It was the first day of Hogwarts! It would be unfair to spend it fuming at everyone and everything.

Even as he thought that, he gave his trunk a good kick.

"Ah, I see you've only gotten shorter this summer, Wood," came a very nasty-sounding voice from behind Oliver.

Any other day, Oliver would probably have utilized his middle finger and then moved on- but he had an urge to scream at something and here was Percy Weasley, offering himself up all too eagerly- so why the hell not? It wasn't like he was worried about offending the prat anyways. He turned and shot Weasley a harsh glare. "And your robes have only gotten shabbier- can your family _really _not afford better?"

Oliver couldn't deny it was very satisfying to watch Weasley's ears turn red. The other boy looked pretty much the same he had last year- maybe a little taller? And his glasses were different- Oliver _thought _they were different, but he really knew nothing about glasses- they were red-rimmed this year, not black like last year.

"At least I've _got _a family, Wood, what's this I've been hearing about your father?"

All mirth leeched from the situation in about two milliseconds flat.

Oliver was sure his face must have been priceless to Weasley, but all he could think was _how? _Oliver hadn't exactly gone around talking about it- even his friends hardly knew. They just had enough sense to not bring up his father because he went very quiet whenever they tried to. Thankfully, they hadn't tried to pry.

Weasley just laughed. "Judging by your expression, I've won this one?"

Oliver tried to gather his thoughts. "As a matter of fact, Weasley, I've been searching for something to hex all day- and here you are! Being a prat and practically _asking _me to Bat-Bogey you."

Weasley raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Like you can do the Bat-Bogey, that's for fourth-years-"

"Oliver! Come on, come with us- don't waste your time with the Weasel!" Adrian laughed from the train window.

Oliver glanced around and found his friend. "You've already gotten on the train?"

"We brought your stuff, too- now, come on! We've got a compartment!" Sam said, poking her head out the window to yell.

Oliver shrugged and grinned at her. Then, he turned and shot Weasley a very dirty look and sauntered off before the other boy could make any sort of smart retort.

Later, in the compartment, he found that his bad mood had altogether disappeared- and also that he'd made a very important discovery.

Screaming at Weasley was a _very _good stress-reliever. He'd have to start doing it more often- especially if he broke any more toaster and then had to clean them up _without magic. _Adrian's mother, honestly...

* * *

Second Year, September 1st

Percy was in a really good mood that morning.

It began when his mum made blueberry pancakes- the best pancakes in the world- for breakfast. It only got better when Fred and George were ordered to stay at home with their dad because they cracked an egg over Ron's head. (Well, not the egg part- poor Ron- but the no-twins-at-the-train-station part.)

And to top it off, his parents had gotten him a rat over the summer- Scabbers- for his good marks at the end of first year. So it was with a smile that he reached the train station that morning.

"Anthony!" he said gladly, hugging his friend. Anthony's blonde hair was now to his shoulders- like Bill- except it looked much better on Bill that it did on Anthony.

Wisely not mentioning that, he instead replied as Anthony started talking about his summer. As Anthony talked about Italy- they'd apparently gone for a month- Percy spotted Wood (who was trying his hardest to break his trunk by kicking it).

"Ah, I see you've only gotten shorter this summer, Wood," Percy said. Really, he had- Percy was still about a foot taller than him.

Wood whirled and glared at Percy- really, that look should be copyrighted because it looked the same every time. "And your robes have only gotten shabbier- can your family _really _not afford better?"

Percy could feel his traitorous ears turning red. _How _many comments was he going to get about his family? It was all he'd heard last year as well- the poor, red-headed Weasleys. One of them was cool, one of them was amazing at Quidditch, and one of them was a teacher's pet. "At least I've _got _a family, Wood, what's this I've been hearing about your father?" he snapped, still thinking about the teacher's pet remarks everyone made behind his back (and sometimes to his face.)

At least it was satisfying to see all the color drain from Wood's face as he spluttered at Percy's retort.

Percy just laughed. "Judging by your expression, I've won this one?"

Oliver stammered out a response. "As a matter of fact, Weasley, I've been searching for something to hex all day- and here you are! Being a prat and practically _asking _me to Bat-Bogey you."

Percy raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Like you can do the Bat-Bogey, that's for fourth-years-"

He was interrupted by Oliver's friends calling out to him, so he shrugged and turned back to Anthony.

Later, on the train, he realized two things.

1) Anthony had the ability to put people to sleep with his droning about Italy

and 2) Arguing with Oliver Wood was quite amusing. Especially when Percy won.

* * *

Second Year, September 1st

"Ahh, Hogwarts chicken- I have missed you dearly!" Mike announced as they gorged themselves on food at the feast. The Sorting had been a blur of hunger for Oliver- had it really been this boring last year at his own Sorting? He'd been sure it had been quite exciting, guessing houses beforehand and whispering about new students.

In reality, it was watching and twiddling your thumbs and trying not to make your stomach grumble too loudly as a bunch of nervous, short kids who lined up and worried themselves far too much over a talking hat.

Really, first-years were midgets, though. Of course, Oliver couldn't quite talk in that aspect of things- it wasn't like he was any Hagrid in height.

"I think I needed the pie more," Adrian said, piling it onto his plate.

Sam swallowed an exceptionally large gulp of food and grinned. "Cake."

Oliver looked around at them all and raised his eyebrows. "Come off it, it's the pickle juice-"

Everyone groaned and laughed with him. "Kidding, it's the treacle tarts for me," Oliver said between laughs.

"Hey, you're Oliver Wood, aren't you?"

Oliver's head shot up- because _Charlie Weasley _was talking to him. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed him earlier, but he was sitting two seats down from Oliver and was now grinning at him. "Um, yeah, I-I'm Oliver," he stammered, feeling like hiding somewhere.

Charlie smiled at him. "I've heard about you- crazy about Quidditch, right?"

Oliver nodded wordlessly.

"I'm the Captain this year," Charlie said proudly. "You've got to come to try-outs- if you're as good as I've heard, then we'll be needing a new Keeper," he said, straightening to go back to his food.

Oliver couldn't breathe.

"So, when's the wedding?" asked Mike cheerily, snapping Oliver back to his senses.

"Shut up, Mike- Charlie Weasley wants me to try out for his team!" Oliver said breathlessly.

"I thought we didn't like Weasleys?" Adrian asked through a mouthful of pie.

Oliver shot him a look. "Just the one. The rest are all right, as far as I know," he said. "I'm going to _faint." _

Sam burst out laughing. "Come on, Oliver- I've watched you play all summer. You're bloody amazing, and, besides, we'll all go hex him if he doesn't let you on the team- legendary Charlie Weasley or not."

Oliver laughed and went back to eating- still hardly believing what had just happened.

* * *

Second Year, September 9th

Percy was sitting in the library, studying for a Charms test they had in a few weeks, when he saw Oliver Wood wander in.

"I didn't know you could read, Wood," he remarked, not really looking up from his book.

When there was no reply, he looked up to see Wood ignoring him and scanning the shelves for a book.

"Someone's quiet today," he said, not sure why he felt disappointed. Probably because he was bored- hey, he liked studying, but Charms essays weren't exactly fun for anyone- and here Wood had come as a welcome distraction, only to be even more boring than the textbook.

"And someone's extra obnoxious today," Wood said absent-mindedly, still looking at the shelf.

He said nothing more.

Percy jumped up- _What the hell am I doing?- _and walked over to where Wood was struggling to pick up a book on the top shelf. He leaned nonchalantly against the bookshelf. "Having fun?" he asked as Wood literally jumped up to grab the book and failed.

"You're a _prat, _Weasley," Wood grunted as he jumped again and also missed again.

"At least I can reach the book," Percy snorted.

Wood growled- _literally, _he had anger issues, this one- and turned to fix Percy with a glare. "What the hell d'you even want, Weasley?"

Percy had been about to reply when he locked eyes with Wood- probably for the first time from such a close distance- and found his motor functions weren't, well, functioning.

His eyes were the nicest shade of blue- dark blue but in a way that you could tell how blue they were instead of just looking black or something. And they were rapidly shutting down all of Percy's life functions, as shown by the way he couldn't formulate a response to Wood.

"Close your mouth, Weasley, you look like the giant squid," Wood scoffed, going back to his fruitless reaching for the book.

As Wood turned away and those eyes stopped piercing into Percy's, he regained his abilities to speak and also to be quite smug as Wood kept jumping. "I see you as a Niffler, Wood," he said. "They're small, aren't they?"

Wood tried about three more times before giving a long-suffering sigh and turning very reluctantly to Percy. "Can. You. Get. It?"

It was the best moment of Percy's life. "I'm sorry, what?"

Wood was turning red very rapidly- a first for him, actually. Percy didn't think he blushed much. But he had to admit it was supremely satisfying that Wood was doing it now. "Can. You. Get. The. _Damn. _Book?!"

Percy had to take a few moments to get the laughing out of his system. "Oh, sweet _Merlin, _this is amazing," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. He took one look at Wood's face- still brilliantly red- and started laughing again. "Okay, okay," he said, trying to pull himself together. He reached up and yanked the book off the shelf, tossing it at Wood. "Let me know if you need me to get anything else, Wood, I know you short people can't stand-"

"SHUT UP!" Wood roared, turning to storm off.

"Oh, you know what the best part is?" Percy said, beginning to laugh his head off again.

"I'm sure I don't," Wood said through what were undoubtedly gritted teeth.

"You could have just Wingardium Leviosa-d it," Percy said. He held it together for approximately two seconds as Wood turned, looking absolutely horrified. Then he lost it altogether, laughing and laughing and laughing as Wood turned an even darker shade of red- he was pushing crimson at this point- turned on his heel, and left, still looking utterly mortified.

As he left, Percy collapsed in his chair and laughed once more, shaking his head at Wood's rapidly retreating back.

He'd been wrong on the train two weeks ago. It wasn't amusing to argue with Oliver- it was bloody _amazing. _

* * *

Second Year, September 27th

Oliver was literally trembling.

All week, Adrian, Mike, Sam- literally everyone in Gryffindor who wasn't trying out themselves or didn't already have an allegiance to one of their friends- had been telling him he was a shoo-in for Keeper. Apparently, news had spread and now everyone seemed to be taking it upon themselves to encourage him.

Some- like Mike- had actually been helpful- and then other- like Anthony Fawcett- had only made him more nervous.

And now he was standing in line, wearing Quidditch gear and sweating in the leather, and he was still shaking.

Probably the least helpful occasion of encouragement had come from Percy Weasley.

_Two days before try-outs, Oliver stumbled in to the common room, still shivering from the wind outside after a full two hours of practicing. _

_"So you're trying out for the team, huh, Wood?" It was Weasley, nose buried in a book as always. Oliver made a face at him.  
_

_"I fully expect-"_

_"To fall on your face within five minutes? Yes, I expect that too," Weasley laughed rudely._

_Oliver narrowed his eyes. "Honestly, I expect you to Confund me from the stands," he snapped._

_Weasley looked mock-offended. "Oh, no, Wood, I'll be singing your praises, of course- after I heroically save you from death by fall from broomstick."_

_"Nah, you'll cheer for me," Oliver said, faking confidence. "I'll save all the shots, and then you'll have to accept that I'm amazing at Quidditch."_

_Weasley snorted. "Okay. Save all the shots and I will cheer for you." He looked as though he hardly believed that would happen. "Until then, I guess we'll have to just hire someone to run around beneath you with a blanket."_

Yeah, it hadn't been pretty.

And now, here he was, in line for the try-outs- with half of Hogwarts watching him. It turned out that Quidditch try-outs were popular for a Quidditch-crazed school. What a shocker!

"Wood, Oliver!" came the call.

Oliver couldn't move or breathe.

It was only when a cheer came from the stands- probably his friends- that his muscles unstuck and he stumbled forward. He slung his leg over the broomstick and kicked off, immediately feeling better as he took to the sky, shooting for the goalposts. He belonged on a broomstick- he knew that. He just needed to prove it to everyone else as well.

Charlie blew the whistle and tossed the Quaffle to one of the Chasers trying out- Theresa Shade, a girl in his year. And the try-outs began.

_Whoosh. _The Quaffle was hurtling towards him- it was almost too easy. Oliver reached out and caught it easily, throwing it back to Charlie in smooth movement.

His nerves began to settle as he saved the second one easily as well.

_Whoosh. _The third one was harder- she was a good Chaser, this girl- and he had swing upside down, but he got it.

He was almost grinning as the fourth came at him- and he _missed it. _

Shitshitshitshitshit-

Oliver dove for it and his fingers caught it-barely- and he threw it to Charlie before there was any danger of him fumbling it again.

He was dimly aware of the crowd cheering louder than ever- had it been a good save?- but he couldn't breathe. Again. Or move.

Charlie blew the whistle, tossed Theresa the Quaffle, and she was about to throw it at him and he was hovering on the very edge of the left goalpost, nowhere near ready for it-

"COME ON, WOOD!"

The shout jarred him into action- he caught the Quaffle on reflex, hardly realizing what was going on. He threw it to Charlie as the whistle was blown again.

"Now, normally, I'd wait to say this- but there were only six Keepers trying out today anyways and we have a _clear _winner here- we have a new Keeper, Gryffindors! Three cheers for Oliver Wood!"

It was like someone had turned up the volume- everything was in focus again. He could, thankfully, reliably move.

He pumped one fist in the air and whooped, grinning broadly at Charlie as he dove for the ground and jumped off the broom. "Welcome to the Gryffindor team, Oliver. We're _definitely _winning the Quidditch Cup this year!"

Oliver could not have been more happy had Charlie offered to hand him ten thousand Galleons.

Once he reached the edge of the pitch, he was ambushed by his friends all trying to hug him at the same time. "Great job, mate!"

"We told you you'd get it for sure!" Adrian said, clapping him on the back.

Oliver grinned- he couldn't stop. "Who was it?" he asked.

"Who was what?" Sam asked, still hugging him tightly.

"Whoever cheered at the end! Honestly, if they hadn't, I reckon I would've missed again-"

"Percy Weasley," Mike said disbelievingly.

Oliver snorted. "No, seriously, I should thank them-"

"Percy. Weasley," Adrian said, shaking his head. "Seriously."

Oliver stared at him for about ten seconds straight.

Then burst out laughing.

They all looked at him like he was crazy, slowly joining in. "I didn't even think that git'd wanna come, if it's not to do with Professors, then he hardly leaves the common room-"

That was much more funny than it should have been- probably because it was coming from Adrian, who made everything sound extra-funny.

"I guess we have Percy Weasley to thank for Ollie making the Quidditch team?" Sam said sarcastically, setting them off again.

Oliver shook his head, clutching his sides. "Screw him. The only thing _I'm _interested in doing right now is getting some of that amazing cocoa I heard they're serving at lunch?" he asked, and they set off for the castle, all of them still laughing about something or the other.

* * *

Second Year, October 30th

"All right, team- this is the best team Gryffindor has had in years- this game's definitely in the bag, huh?" Charlie said confidently. "Let's go!" he said, and they all cheered, even Oliver, who was shaking down to his boots.

The team was great, sure- Charlie was Seeker, he was Keeper, two sixth-year boys were Beaters, and the Chasers were two sixth-year girls- Tammy Hawthorne and Angelica Dale- and a seventh-year boy with hair longer than Bill Weasley's- Brian Jordan. But Oliver was still utterly terrified at the thought of getting on that pitch and playing Quidditch in front of all of Hogwarts- who'd hate him if he lost Gryffindor a Quidditch game.

Especially against Slytherin.

_Help me, Merlin... _

* * *

Second Year, October 30th

Percy was sitting in the very front row of the stands- which was technically good seating but was also the most terrifying thing he'd ever done.

"Percy, we're safe in here. Just enjoy the game," Anthony said comfortingly as Percy glanced over the edge of the stands and nearly vomited at how high they were. He couldn't understand how Quidditch players could be this high with only a stick of wood to support them.

Wait, scratch that. Oliver Wood wasn't allowed to be braver than him. Percy could handle this.

"All right, folks! First Quidditch game of the season! Here we go, Captains Charlie Weasley and Peter Jenkins are shaking hands, Madam Hooch is releasing the Bludgers- and there goes the Quaffle! The game's begun!"

The commentator was some bloke from Hufflepuff that Percy had never seen before.

"Slytherin chasers passing to each other- ooohh, Bludger at Weasley, dodges it nicely, Gryffindor's got the Quaffle- HAWTHORNE SENDS IT INTO THE GOAL! 10-0 TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Percy cheered with everyone else- it was _Quidditch, _he couldn't not like it- and grinned as Gryffindor got the Quaffle again- wait, no, Slytherin had it now-

"HE SHOOTS- and Wood saves the goal, nice one! Passes to Dale, passes to Hawthorne-" And on and on it went.

About five minutes later, the score was 20-10 with Gryffindor leading.

"Quaffle with Slytherin, Flint passes to Jenkins, Jenkins passes back, FLINT SHOOTS- AHA, WOOD'S SAVED IT! Passes to Jordan, passes to Dale- OI!"

The entire crowd- probably including Percy- gasped as a Bludger went hurtling into Oliver Wood's head. It snapped back and his body went slack as he started to fall.

"Holy _shit," _Percy said as everyone in the stands leaned forward and some idiot dramatic girls started screaming as he fell. Percy did nothing of the sort, but he couldn't deny that his stomach dropped a little as Wood fell- he still hated the guy, but that was insane, falling fifty feet- and it was scary to watch, anyhow.

"Bloody hell," Anthony said from next to him as Dumbledore himself cast a spell and Wood stopped about three feet from the ground, unconscious. The commentator was losing his mind and the entire crowd was gasping and looking overly shocked and everything people did when players got seriously injured at Quidditch games.

Charlie was already gesturing for the reserve Keeper to come out as he dove for the ground and dropped down next to Wood as Madam Hooch and a few Professors went to see how he was doing.

Within five minutes, everyone had forgotten about it as the reserve Keeper- some fifth-year girl- flew in to take his place, and after Charlie's fussing over his precious Keeper was over with, they got on with the game.

It was a little hard to pay attention- Percy was sure everyone below third-year was still in shock because without magic, Wood would likely have died and that was a lot to deal with, he supposed.

And, of course, Wood's friends were trampling everyone trying to reach the stairs to get down to the Hospital Wing back at the castle.

Not to mention the fact that Percy's heart was still beating a ridiculously fast rhythm in his chest after watching Wood fall.

* * *

Second Year, November 5th

Everything was black.

Then everything was white.

Oliver closed his eyes to make the blinding light go away.

"Oliver? You awake?"

Some groan-sigh sound escaped his lips as Oliver forced his eyes open, rubbing his head as a sharp pain shot through his forehead. "Why does everything hurt?" he slurred.

Someone laughed, and Oliver looked around to see it was Charlie. "What happened?" Oliver asked.

"You got hit by a Bludger. Then you fell fifty feet and everyone freaked out," Charlie chuckled. "You good?"

"No," Oliver said truthfully. "Fifty feet?"

"Yeah. It's been a week-"

"A WHAT?"

That was a mistake. He ended up groaning into his pillow again and trying to make his head stop hurting.

"-a week," Charlie was saying as Oliver regained control over his senses again. "Madam Pomfrey says you'll be fine, you just had a concussion."

"Just a concussion," Oliver echoed in shock as something horrible struck his mind.

"I'm off the team, aren't I?" Oliver said miserably.

Charlie looked at him in utter bewilderment. _"What?"_

"I fell off my broom!"

"Be-because a _Bludger hit you in the head- _Oliver, honestly! Of course you're still on the team! I don't throw people off the team because they get injured- if you were at _my _first Quidditch game, then you wouldn't be asking this," Charlie sputtered.

Oliver gave him a weak smile. "Thank Merlin," he sighed. "How _was _your first Quidditch game?"

"Let's just say it was a lot like yours," Charlie chuckled. "Okay, I'm going to go tell Madam Pomfrey you're awake."

Oliver watched as he left, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head.

"Hi."

Oliver turned to the door and was taken aback to see a very awkward-looking Percy Weasley hovering there. "Weasley?"

"McGonagall told me to drop off your homework," Weasley said in explanation, crossing the room to Oliver's bed and setting a bunch of parchment down on the table next to it.

"Thanks?" Oliver said uncertainly.

For a few seconds they both just kind of stood there- Weasley staring at the ceiling and Oliver tugging at his duvet.

"Are you, um, good? With your head and stuff?" Weasley asked finally.

Oliver nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm fine. I think."

Weasley scoffed. "I thought you'd have gotten permanent brain damage."

Oliver wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Maybe you have if you're just going to let me insult you. Should I keep going-?"

Oliver glared at him. "Shut up, Weasel."

"There we go," Weasley laughed.

Were they being... mildly civil to each other? That hadn't happened since the beginning of their first year.

"Hey," Oliver said, remembering something. "Thanks for try-outs."

Weasley made a face. "What?"

"Oh. I mean when you sort of cheered at the end. I dunno, I think I would have just frozen if you hadn't yelled," Oliver babbled.

A slow grin was spreading across his face. "Ah. So you're saying it was thanks to _me _you got on the team."

This was the worst idea Oliver had ever had. "You _prat, _it was still me catching the Quaffle-"

"Too late, you've admitted it," Weasley said, waving him off pompously. "It was thanks to my amazing awesomeness-"

"Oh, shut your mouth-"

"-that you made the team-"

"It really wasn't-"

"-and you should be doing all my homework for the rest of the year-"

"Blimey, Weasley, I thought you liked homework?"

"Sweet Merlin, Wood, it's _homework. _Who the hell likes it?"

They looked at each other. And then burst out laughing.

Madam Pomfrey swept in as they were doing so, effectively cutting them off. "Good, you're awake- oh, clear out, please, this boy's got a lot of potions to drink!"

Weasley stopped laughing and turned to leave, walking toward the door. At the last moment, he turned around and said quickly, "The last ten minutes never happened."

Oliver cocked his head. "What ten minutes?"

Weasley grinned and left as Oliver leaned back in his bedspread, falling asleep once more.

* * *

Second Year, May 19th

Months had passed since Oliver's first Quidditch game. It was May, the Quidditch final had happened- a loss for Gryffindor by _ten points _that Oliver would never get over- Easter and Christmas had passed, and it was nearing time to take their exams.

And Oliver was freaking out.

"I haven't studied at all, Sam-"

"I never study. Look at me, third in the class," Sam said nonchalantly, stretched out on one of the common room sofas. It was a sunny morning, but there was a chill in the air so the windows were shut and the fire was crackling merrily still.

"Because you're Sam!" Adrian said from the armchair opposite her. "And you're amazing at everything-"

Oliver had already stopped paying attention- he knew what was going to happen. Sam would go pink and she'd stutter something and then Adrian would either get very smug or go completely quiet because he had no idea what he was doing when it came to Sam, honestly.

He knew this because they'd stayed up many nights talking and Adrian talked about Sam far too much during those nights.

"Mike, can you help me study?" Oliver asked.

Mike had his nose buried in his own book. "Sorry, Ollie, maybe later. I've got my own revisions to do and about five hundred rolls of parchment of notes to read over."

Oliver groaned and collapsed onto an armchair next to him. "I don't know what to do."

"What exactly is the problem? You haven't studied? You've got two weeks, mate, start now."

"Also I haven't taken any notes-"

"You WHAT-"

"And no one's letting me borrow theirs!"

"Well, of course not," Mike said, sitting up and looking at him, "I can't believe you haven't taken any, what the bloody hell have you been doing in classes all year?"

"Sleeping off Quidditch practice," Oliver said gloomily.

"Oliver Bartholomew Wood-"

"Let's not use my middle name-"

"-what the hell, mate?"

Oliver groaned again. "So I'm in a bit of a pickle here."

"You know what? Go find Percy Weasley, he'd be delighted to help you study," Mike said nastily.

Oliver gave him his best kicked puppy face. "Mike."

"Yeah, Oliver, he'll actually help you. He's Percy Bloody Weasley, for Merlin's sake! But that's only if he liked you- which obviously isn't the case," Mike scoffed.

Oliver looked around. And looked around again. Everyone was buried in their books with their notes and their quills and their squinty eyes. No one was going to agree to help him- but Percy Weasley actually might.

The problem was, of course, that Percy Weasley was a prat. A prat that would certainly let Oliver fail out of Hogwarts.

In fact, he'd probably tell Oliver all of the wrong information and he'd put boomslang skin in the wrong potion and it would blow up in his face or something.

With these thoughts in mind, Oliver's traitorous feet carried him to the library to find the very same prat Percy Weasley.

When he entered the library, he found Weasley literally sitting behind a nook of books that he'd piled on the table in front of him. He'd secluded himself in one corner- was there a blanket back there? And a pillow? And _hot chocolate?- _and likely hadn't moved for ages.

"Weasley?" Oliver asked very awkwardly.

A red head poked out from above the stack of books- about five feet tall in total.

"How is this allowed?" Oliver asked incredulously.

"Madam Pince doesn't care as long we're quiet," Weasley shrugged. "What the hell d'you want?"

Oliver paused. "I. Um. Didn't take any notes this year," he confessed. And now Weasley was going to give him that smug smirk-

There it was. "Aha. So you want my help studying, I take it?"

Oliver looked at his shoes and nodded.

There was a cackle from behind the books.

Oliver started. "Blimey, Weasley, you sound bloody _mad."_

"No,"-Weasley shifted a stack of books precariously-"this is bloody brilliant. Okay, get in here, I can't hold up the books for much longer!" Oliver ducked beneath the quivering stack and was inside before he could talk himself out of it. Weasley set down the books, dusted off his hands, and turned to Oliver to flash him a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up."

"I didn't even say anything!" Weasley protested, flopping onto the floor. "And I'm the one saving your arse from failing right now- so _you _shut up."

Thank Merlin he was actually helping.

"You know, there hasn't been a single instance in this library that you haven't needed my help," Weasley remarked as Oliver looked around at the mini-book house he was standing in. It was like seven by three feet and did indeed have blankets and pillows and hot chocolate. And two of the walls were entirely made of books, along with more strewn across the floor.

"What the bloody hell happens in here?" Oliver asked.

"Studying. Every weekend for like a month before exams."

"You live in here, don't you?" Oliver deadpanned.

Weasley shrugged. "Hey, it works. It's better than your strategy of begging to your worst enemy-"

"Shut. Up."

"You're right, we've got work to do-"

Oliver groaned.

"Don't be dramatic," Weasley said, propping a book open against one of the book-walls.

"It'll topple," Oliver warned.

Weasley squinted at the wall. "It won't. It's an architectural marvel-"

"You're a _moronical _marvel."

"That's not even a word!"

"No, but it was witty-"

"Just start reading the damn textbook," Weasley groaned, tossing it at him.

Oliver sighed and flipped it open- it was History of Magic.

Thirty seconds later- "Can I have hot chocolate?"

"Make it yourself."

Thirty minutes later- "Can I have more hot chocolate?"

"Make it yourself."

Ten seconds later- "Ooh, you have marshmallows!"

"Yep."

Ten seconds later- "Can I have some marshmallows?"

"Whatever."

Twenty seconds later- "Can I have more marshmallows?"

"I really don't care."

Thirty seconds later- "Can I have more hot chocolate?"

Weasley slammed his book shut. "I swear to Merlin if you don't stop _talking _I'm kicking you out!"

"Just asking," Oliver said innocently.

"Wood, I don't bloody care how much hot chocolate you have, they're just plastic packets, not prized possessions-"

"Don't insult the hot chocolate!"

"You know what? Give me the book. It's been a half an hour, let's see how much you remember," Weasley sighed. "When was the Third Goblin Revolution?"

Oliver racked his brain... goblins had been three marshmallows before his second serving... "1879?"

Weasley looked up from the book and made a face. "1695."

Oliver groaned. "I don't remember anything."

"Then stop eating marshmallows and pay attention!" Weasley said in a whisper-yell. He handed the book back to him and snatched the marshmallows back.

Oliver made his best kicked puppy face- of course it didn't work.

Nearly fours later, at what was probably midnight, Oliver shut the book. There was a stack of notes in front of him, a bunch of colored cards Weasley said were 'flashcards' and Oliver thought were probably a good way to cheat since they were so small, and their hot chocolate was gone, the marshmallow bag still sitting in the corner, half-empty and lonely-looking.

Weasley must have seen the longing look Oliver was shooting the marshmallows, because he sighed and dragged the bag over. "Leave some for me," he said, flopping down on the blankets.

Oliver smiled to himself as he stuffed them all in his mouth- hey, Weasley didn't deserve the marshmallows anyway.

Thank Merlin he actually knew a few things about goblin wars now.

And also that Weasley was generous with his hot chocolate.

* * *

Second Year, June 30th

"Hey, Weasley!"

It was Wood, here to pester him and ruin his last day at Hogwarts. "Wood, I'm really not in the mood for this-"

"Even better!"

"What do you want?" Percy groaned, running a hand through his hair. It was nearing eight o'clock in the Gryffindor common room- most people had cleared out to their dormitories to finish packing and sit with their friends. Anthony was upstairs packing as well, but there were less people in the common room than in his crowded dormitory, so Percy was sitting on one of the couches down here with a book.

"Ah, what're you reading?" Wood asked, flopping down on the couch next to him.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Muggle book."

"Isn't it weird reading about things like telephones?" Wood asked.

Percy put the book between him and Wood and opened it. "Not really. Go away."

"Aw, come on, Weasley!" Wood groaned when Percy made no further attempts to speak to him.

"What?" Percy snarled.

"You get to pester me whenever you feel like it, but I have to wait until you're in the mood?" Wood whined.

Percy looked at him as if he'd just agreed to swallow the Giant Squid. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"You show up whenever you want to and make stupid comments and generally annoy the hell out of me. Why can't I do the same?"

"You're horrible at it, Wood, honestly. You have to wait for the right moment. This is not it," Percy said absentmindedly.

_Why the hell are you giving him tips on how to torture you?!_

"Fine," Wood said petulantly. He got up and went back to the dormitory.

_Thank Merlin. I can read in peace... _

And that peace lasted about five minutes.

Percy was still buried in the book and was hardly paying attention as someone came down the stairs and walked by him.

Except it was Wood and he'd gotten hold of an egg and was cracking it on Percy's _head. _"WHAT THE HELL?!" Percy roared, jumping up with egg yolk trickling down the side of his face. His head felt kind of cold on top and he was afraid to touch his hair for fear that goo would get all over his hands.

_Bloody hell, I'm going to _hex _him._

"Was that the right moment?" Wood asked coyly, dancing out of Percy's reach as he leapt at him.

"IF YOU WANTED TO DIE THEN YES IT WAS-" Percy screamed, making a flying leap at him and instead smashing into an armchair.

"Oof, Weasley, that looked like it hurt," Wood said, laughing.

Percy plunged his hand into the pocket of his robes, flushing red as egg yolk continued to dribble down his face. He pointed his wand at Wood. "TARANTALLEGRA!" he yelled.

Wood dodged the blast of light and made a face at Percy. "Ha, you missed!"

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Percy yelled.

Wood dodged it again.

"YOU-"

"I what?" Wood said cockily.

"LEVICORPUS!"

"Missed again! What _was _that spell, never heard of it?" Wood said, still jumping out of Percy's way.

"BOYS!"

_Shit. _

It was McGonagall, standing in the doorway of the common room. "What is going on here?" she asked. "Mr. Weasley, I really didn't expect this of you! Hexing classmates!"

All the color drained from Percy's face. "I- really, Professor- it was his fault! He cracked an _egg on my head!" _Percy said, pointing at Wood, who was cracking up.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. Each! And you're lucky it wasn't detention for both of you!" McGonagall said, turning on her heel and leaving. "Oh, and clean yourself up, Mr. Weasley. Really."

Percy rounded on Wood the second she left and shot another curse at him. "TARANTALLEGRA!" This time, he didn't miss and at least got the satisfaction of going up to his dormitory laughing as Wood tried desperately to find the counter-jinx.

Still. He had _egg yolk on his head!_

Wood was going bloody _mad, _and he was dragging Percy down with him, apparently.

* * *

**Oh, those library scenes... idk if they were funny for you guys but I was laughing the whole time I was writing them lol.**

**I'm not gonna lie- the cluelessness is REALLY fun to write lol. Don't worry, people, it'll be ages before either of them figures it out and before that I get to write a whole shit ton of fun stuff.**

**Writing is honestly the best thing ever lmao.**

**Also I swear the chapters will start getting a little shorter, it's just that I have to cram a full year into each chapter right now lol. I can't wait until I get to fifth-year, because I'm trying to save all the interesting bits for then and so writing these first four chapters is a little boring lol. We'll be there soon, folks!**

**I hoped you liked it! Please review!**

**See ya next time!**

**-Cupcakes Can Write Too**


	3. The One Where Percy Went To Hogsmeade

**This one's going to be interesting lol. Third year has arrived! **

**A lot more fun can begin! *cough* Hogsmeade basically *cough***

**Thanks to griffin blackwood for reviewing- I actually didn't change their ages on purpose, that must have been an accident lol. Thanks for letting me know! I'm glad you like Sam :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Third Year, September 1st

Sweet Merlin, this was awkward.

"Have a good year, Oliver," his father said, smiling half-heartedly. Oliver nodded and waved and waited.

His father was glancing at his watch and waving to some of his friends that he saw at the station.

He wasn't going to say anything else.

Oliver turned away, searching the crowd for his friends. Hell, he'd take Weasley right now over standing here and watching his father want to be anywhere but with him.

_You will _not _cry. No. _

"Wood!"

Thank Merlin.

"Weasley? Oh, damn, I forgot the eggs!" Oliver laughed, walking over to him and his exceptionally large band of redheaded family members. Weasley looked much like he had in first year- little taller, older-looking, of course. But his dark red hair and hazel-golden eyes were the same.

Weasley flushed and made a face at Wood. "Would you like me to hex you again?" he said, looking Oliver up and down. "You're still a midget, I see."

That wasn't exactly true. Oliver could look Weasley in the eyes now- but yeah, he was still shorter than him. That had better change soon, honestly, or there'd be a problem on Oliver's hands.

"Hello, who're you?" asked one of the redheads. He was a little shorter than Oliver and had a smile that made you want to check that you still had your wallet.

"Oliver Wood," he replied.

"The Quidditch one?" the redhead asked, poking his head up above the one that had just spoken.

Wait. It was the same one. Was he seeing double? No...

"I'm sorry, are there _two _of you?" Oliver asked incredulously.

They nodded in unison. "I'm Fred," said the one on the left.

"And I'm George."

"And we're the best Weasleys there are, unlike this prat Percy."

Oliver laughed. "I can definitely agree with that."

"Oi!" Weasley said, glaring at the twins.

Oliver blinked innocently at him. "You know," he said out of the corner of his mouth, talking to the twins but looking at Weasley, "I cracked an egg on his head once."

Fred and George burst out laughing. "Seriously?"

"And then I hexed him for it, so we're even. Go find Mum or something, Fred," Weasley said quickly.

Fred- Oliver assumed it was Fred, at least- stuck his nose in the air and walked away in step with George. "We'll bring you more eggs, Oliver!" they called over their shoulders.

Oliver laughed again. "Weasley, why is it that your family's great and then you're the horrible one? Charlie, Bill, and now Fred and George... are you sure you're related to them?"

Weasley shoved him. "Shut up, pipsqueak."

"Don't even-"

Weasley just climbed onto the train, giving him the middle finger.

Oliver stared after him for a few seconds. Then he stuck his tongue out at his retreating back and made a face- very maturely- and turned around, spotting his friends. "Adrian! Mike!"

They sprinted over and Oliver was struck for the first time how old they looked. Mike's blonde hair was darkening to brown and he was nearly Adrian's height- why did Oliver have to have such tall friends that made him look shorter than he already was?- and Adrian looked about fifteen at this point.

Sam ran over and Oliver had the same feeling again- her hair was so much longer now and she looked a lot more mature as well.

Merlin, when was Oliver going to get taller?

"Who wants some Fizzing Whizbees?" asked Sam, waving a bag in their faces.

_"Yes, _thank you-"

"I knew there was a reason we kept you around!'

"Honestly, Sam, I love you-"

Sam just laughed at their reactions. "You owe me! All of you- when we go to Hogsmeade we're blowing all of our money on candy, right?"

Oliver cheered at that. "We've got to go to Zonko's and Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks and the post office-"

"The post office?" Adrian scoffed. "Forget that, I'm going to the Shrieking Shack!"

"Isn't it haunted?" asked Mike as they got on the train.

"Mike, we go to a school with ghosts," Sam reminded him. She craned her neck above the crowd on the train. "I don't think we'll get a compartment to ourselves," she sighed. "Come on, let's find something not completely overcrowded."

"Yes, but... like, the bad ghosts!" Mike said sheepishly, following as she led them down the hallway. The whistle blew and the train started moving.

"There's no such thing," Sam said determinedly. "This one looks empty-ish. Ooh, sorry, Oliver, Weasley's in here-"

"Sam, don't-"

"Can we sit here?" she asked, poking her head through the open door as Oliver mimed punching her from behind her back and Adrian laughed at his reaction.

"All right, but don't bring-"

Oliver trudged in.

"-him," finished Weasley. "Great," he groaned.

"Likewise," Oliver informed him curtly.

"Right, where were we?" Sam asked, sitting down next to Oliver. Adrian was quick to claim the seat next to her, leaving Mike to sit next to Anthony and Weasley.

"The Shrieking Shack. Which _is _haunted," Oliver said.

"No, it's not," Anthony interjected.

"Prove it," Adrian challenged, stretching back on the seat like a cat and shoving candy in his mouth.

"I'm not going in there on any sort of bet," Weasley said immediately. "We'd get detention forever-"

"Hmm, I guess we'll have to agree that it is haunted and that we're right," Mike said, cutting in.

Weasley narrowed his eyes at Mike. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Boys!" Sam cut in. "Honestly. We'll just go when we're at Hogsmeade and take a look and-"

Every single person in the compartment immediately objected to that. "You can't tell by _looking-"_

"You'e got to go inside-"

"It's not even haunted, why waste our time going?"

"Oh, shut up-"

"Stop arguing!" Sam yelled again.

Oliver broke the ensuing silence. "Well... that's kind of what Weasley and I _do, _Sam."

"I know, and for good reason-"- here she paused to glare at him, which he returned- "-but you're all going to give me a headache if you scream like that."

"You know, you two should really stop arguing," Anthony said, looking back and forth between Weasley and Oliver.

They both gave him confused looks. "He cracked an egg on my head," Weasley reminded him.

"He's insufferable!" Oliver said, pointing at Weasley.

"Yes, but this is childish-"

"Mate, it's not going to work," Mike said. "I've already tried, you'll only make it worse."

Oliver had an urge to laugh at that- was he really that crazy-looking to his friends?

They all went back to their own conversations after that, and it started raining outside the window.

Knowing he was probably close to falling asleep, Oliver leaned his head against the cool glass and looked outside at the rolling green fields and forests- so much prettier than his house in southeastern London, a small apartment that always felt tiny- especially compared to Hogwarts.

With nothing else to really occupy his thoughts, his mind drifted to his father. People always said Oliver looked just like Augustus Wood- same brown hair and same shape of their faces and everything.

But it was starting to feel more and more like neither of his parents really wanted him around- his father had only visited twice over the summer and had hardly stayed for an hour each time. And his mother was always so quiet- working long hours and hardly speaking to Oliver even when she was home.

This summer had been nearly unbearable without his friends to keep him company. He'd forgotten what it was like to have to be alone all the time, opposed to the comforting presence of Hogwarts- its students and its familiar old halls.

_Don't cry, don't cry... _

He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep- he'd take sleep over thinking about his miserable life any longer.

* * *

Third Year, September 1st

"So, Perce," said Fred- probably Fred, at least. They'd both just been sorted into Gryffindor and were hogging all the food within a ten-foot radius at the feast.

Percy was hesitant to respond- they spent more time calling him a big-headed prat than they really did anything else. "Yes?"

"How long have you been dating Oliver Wood?"

Percy spit out his pumpkin juice. "We're- we're not _dating. _I don't even fancy blokes!" he sputtered.

George propped his chin up on his hands as he and Fred gave him identical cheeky grins. "Perce, as far as we know-"

"-and we know everything, of course-"

"-you've never fancied _anyone. _So that leaves the playing field open."

"I don't fancy Oliver Wood!" Percy said, fighting to keep his voice down. If anyone heard _that _being said by Percy Weasley then his life was over.

"Sure you don't," George said, unfazed. _"Sure." _

"How about this: If I promise not to write to Mum about that toilet you two exploded, then you'll shut up about Wood!"

"What toilet?" Fred asked, genuinely confused.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, didn't you know? I saw it all, happened two days from now. I'll send the letter ten minutes after it happens and Mum will send you a Howler and then-"

"Fine," George grumbled.

"But thanks for the idea, Perce-"

"-we'll get right on that."

Percy just groaned.

* * *

Third Year, September 27th

"Oliver! Look, we've got news!"

Oliver groaned and rolled over in his bed. "Give me five more minutes."

He'd had Quidditch practice until the sun set and they couldn't physically see anymore last night- and, on top of that, he'd had to rush through an essay on hinkypunks.

And it was Sunday morning, he could sleep a little longer than usual.

"Oliver!" another voice whined.

Someone yanked his arm and made him sit up. If he'd been more awake his smile would have devilish, but for now he settled for keeping his eyes closed and letting himself go limp- he was too heavy for people to drag him out of bed then.

His arm was really being wrenched from its socket, though.

"FINE!" he yelled, sitting up. "This better be good- someone's bought me a Nimbus 1500, right?"

It was Adrian, Mike, and Sam clustered around his bed, hangings pushed back. "It's the Hogsmeade weekend!" Sam said, jumping up and down. "It's on Halloween!"

Oliver paused, letting the rage build up. It was better when it crescendo-ed. "I'm sorry," he began plainly, "Did you actually wake me up at 7:00 AM on Sunday morning after I got two hours of sleep to tell me about a HOGSMEADE WEEKEND?!"

Mike was the only one who looked even slightly apologetic. "Sorry, mate-"

"Oh, don't apologize, Mike- Ollie, calm down. It's Hogsmeade-"

"AND IT COULD HAVE WAITED!" Oliver groaned. "Let me _sleep, _guys."

They obeyed- he'd been told he could be quite scary when he was angry.

He flopped back onto the bed, feeling a little guilty for screaming at his friends.

And then he fell asleep, which really meant that his friends probably should have left him alone anyways.

Three hours later, he woke again- at about 10:30- which was a much more reasonable time to wake up in Oliver's opinion.

He shuffled down to the common room, feeling sort of sheepish as he went to go sit with his friends. "Sorry I sort of lost it. Honestly, everything I say before 9:00 AM should be considered general gibberish," he said.

His friends glanced at him and smiled. "It's fine. We saved you some breakfast," Sam said, passing him a wrapped bundle with some bacon in it.

"Thanks," Oliver said, shoving it gratefully in his mouth.

"Still, mate, remind me to never go near you in the mornings," Mike said worriedly.

They all looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"So," Adrian said when they were done, "Wanna go down to the lake?"

Oliver shrugged. "Can I bring my broom?"

"Oh, me too!" Sam said.

"I guess we're just flying, huh?" Mike said a little sadly.

Oliver glanced at Adrian. "Never mind. I have Quidditch practice later anyway. Let's just walk. But Mike isn't allowed to bring books either," he added with a grin.

Mike stuck his tongue out at Oliver. "Fine."

Finishing his bacon, Oliver got his cloak and the four of them left the common room, talking about random things.

"Hey," Sam said when they were nearing the Entrance Hall, "Do you ever think it's weird that I'm friends with you guys?"

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, leading them across the Hall.

"I mean that, I dunno, you're all boys. And I'm the only girl. It's kind of... weird, I guess," Sam shrugged.

"It was the magic of the Hogwarts Express," Adrian said in a dramatic tone.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I know we're all witches and wizards, but-"

"Okay, have you ever heard of people who sat together on the train their first year and _didn't _end up best friends?" Mike asked, joining the theory.

Oliver considered it. "Not really. I'm sure it's happened-"

"But whoever sits together on the Hogwarts Express is the best friendship. The meant-to-be friendship," Adrian said in that same dramatic voice.

"Calm down, Adrian, and cut it out with that voice," Sam said, laughing. They pushed open the doors and emerged in the courtyard outside of Hogwarts.

"He's got a point," Oliver conceded. "Ask anyone and they'll say they met their friends on the Hogwarts Express."

"Fine," Sam said. "I'll go along with it. What if people you sit with end up in different houses?"

Adrian considered. "Then it means the friendship wouldn't have worked out. So the train gives you another chance at the feast and you make new friends," Adrian said confidently.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Adrian, I don't think conspiracy theories are your area of expertise."

"Are they anyone's?" Oliver scoffed.

They reached the lake, having moved on from the Hogwarts Express conspiracies, and sat beneath one of the big, leafy trees as Adrian passed around some candy. "So, Hogsmeade?" Adrian asked. "Have we still got that bet with Weasley and Fawcett?"

Oliver shrugged. "Weasley's too much of a goody-two-shoes to agree," he laughed.

As everyone else grinned at that, he heard a voice behind him. "What's this about me?"

Oliver turned and made a face. It was Weasley, in all of his ugly glory.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. "Just that you're a prat," Oliver responded on reflex, still staring at Weasley. _Why the hell are you staring at him? Stop. Right now. _Yeah, that didn't happen. It was probably just because Oliver still wasn't used to his hair- it was really dark red, almost brown. Oliver hadn't thought people actually had hair that color- it would have looked dyed had he not seen the rest of his ginger family.

"Talk about me often?" Weasley remarked, raising his eyebrows.

Oliver was embarrassed for all of two seconds. "Only when you've deliberately pissed one of us off," he said, turning away and wondering why he felt disappointed that he was no longer looking at him.

"You know you love me, Wood- deep down you're absolutely sure of it-"

"We were actually talking about how you're a wimp and you won't agree to go down to the Shrieking Shack to prove our bet," Sam cut in.

Weasley was already turning red. "I am _not _a wimp. I'm just also not an idiot who'll agree to go out after curfew- and all the way to Hogsmeade! McGonagall would kill us."

Oliver shrugged. "And you're scared of McGonagall, is that it?"

"You know what? Fine. We're proving that it's _not _haunted. We can go after the Hogsmeade visit," Weasley said, throwing his hands in the air. "Honestly, you're mad, the lot of you. Ten galleons?"

"You're agreeing, so I suspect you've got a little crazy in you as well," Mike said. "Ten galleons it is."

They shook on it- _so _professional- and Weasley moved on, making a face at Oliver just because.

Oliver watched him go, lying down on the grass and occasionally glancing at the cloudy sky. There was a nice wind blowing- it was a beautiful day to be outside. And most of the castle was lazing somewhere on the grounds.

A blank piece of parchment floated above Oliver's head. He furrowed his brow, reaching up and grabbing it and propping himself up with his elbows beneath him. He looked to his right- that was where it had come from- and saw a girl chasing after a bunch of papers that had been blown everywhere by the wind.

Weasley was helping her as well, and together they gathered up all the papers. As Oliver watched, they started talking to each other, and Weasley was _blushing. _The girl was really pretty, too- she had long brown hair that was blowing in the wind and one of those pleasant sort of faces, not unlike Sam.

Weasley was still talking to her, handing her papers. He laughed at something she said, and her cheeks were obviously dusted pink as well- even from a distance, Oliver could tell.

Oliver narrowed his eyes as they started walking back toward the castle together, still grinning at each other like fools.

Who was she? Oliver hadn't seen her before... no, he had. He thought she was a Ravenclaw, and he'd had Potions with her back in first year, maybe.

"What're you looking at, Ollie?" asked Mike.

Eyes still on Weasley and the Ravenclaw, he responded: "I'm trying to figure out who that girl is."

Sam craned her neck and looked. "Oh, that's Penelope Clearwater," she said. "She's in our year, I think she's a Ravenclaw."

Oliver nodded. "Okay..."

"Why're you glaring at her?" Adrian asked.

He was? He hadn't known that...

"She dropped a boils potion on me once," Oliver said absentmindedly, fibbing. There wasn't really an explanation- she just looked sort of mean, he supposed.

He kept glaring at her even as she committed the very mean act of smiling at Weasley.

* * *

Third Year, October 17th

"Protego, sir," Percy said, raising his hand.

Professor Flitwick nodded. "Yes, Mr. Weasley. Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Percy smiled to himself, writing it down in his notes.

"Okay, now I'm going to partner you up so you can practice the Shield Charm," Flitwick continued. He started going around the room, pairing people off.

"Hmm... Ms. Avery and... Mr. Weasley," he decided, waving her in his direction.

Percy resisted the urge to groan. Avery was all right, he supposed, but seeing as how he'd once said some pretty mean things against her and her family and that that was the whole reason Wood had slapped him in the first place and started this mess... it wouldn't exactly be fun having her firing jinxes at him.

"Um... Sam?" he asked very awkwardly, his ears already turning red.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I... I'm sorry about first year. You know what I'm talking about, right? It wasn't... I shouldn't have said those things without knowing anything about you," Percy said sheepishly, feeling as though the room was very hot all of a sudden. He slid his gloves off, hating how embarrassed he felt.

Sam sized him up for a few seconds, then seemed to decide that he seemed sincere. "It's okay. We were all idiots when we were eleven anyways."

Percy grinned. "Okay. Who gets to hex who first?"

"I'm hexing you," Sam said without a moment of hesitation. "Prepare to die!"

Percy just laughed.

It turned out that Sam was actually a lot of fun to be around. She was witty and made a bunch of smart comments and Percy really wished he hadn't been such a prat in first year because they might have been friends earlier if he hadn't.

"So, that Hogsmeade bet," Sam said, grinning. "I am actually on your side- it's not haunted, no way- but unfortunately Mike would kill me if I didn't side with him."

Percy dodged one of her spells and shot one at her. She cast the Shield Charm and it bounced off, hitting the wall, which thankfully absorbed it instead of causing a disaster like some spells were doing by bouncing everywhere.

"I can't believe I got you guys to make me agree to sneak out of the castle and go to Hogsmeade in the middle of the night!" Percy groaned. "It was a terrible idea, honestly."

Sam laughed as he ducked to avoid another spell of hers. Casting the charm for the next one, he was pleased to see it bounce off the shield. "Going with anyone? To Hogsmeade, I mean?"

Percy was panting from all of the jumping around. "Are you offering?" he asked with a grin.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Seriously."

Actually, the answer was sort of embarrassing. "There's someone I'd like to ask... but I'm way too nervous to do it," he confessed.

"It's Penny Clearwater, isn't it?" Sam asked.

Percy could feel his ears turning red. "How'd you know?"

"Oh, it's not common knowledge, don't worry. But Oliver mentioned it a few times, I dunno," Sam said, shrugging.

"Why would Wood-? Whatever. Hey, you're a girl..." Percy trailed off at the murderous look on her face. "Oh, I knew it before, okay, I just didn't think of this specific thing. Could you help me? I feel like asking a bloke would end up in flames, and I'm not really friends with any girls...?"

Sam sighed. "Fine. Honestly, I'm not any kind of expert. It's not like I've ever had a relationship. But if someone were to ask me out... I think I'd prefer it was simple. Just ask her, you know? You just gotta do it. It's not a marriage proposal, you don't have to go all out for it."

Percy gave her a disapproving look. "That wasn't helpful."

"Ugh. What more do you want to know?" Sam asked, firing another spell at him. His shield held.

"I don't know... should I get flowers or something?"

"Percy. Just _ask _her. I'm sure she'll say yes," Sam said.

"Really?"

"Well... actually, I've got no idea," Sam confessed, looking sheepish. "I don't really know her at all. But I know she's nice, so she wouldn't make it awkward if she said no," Sam reasoned.

Percy still felt like throwing up at the thought of doing it.

"Okay, by the look on your face you're still not happy. How about this? Just do it tonight. Whenever you see her. Preferably when she's alone, you don't want to deal with all the teasing from other people," Sam said.

"Fine," Percy sighed. "I'll do it tonight," he agreed miserably.

* * *

Third Year, October 17th

"I think Weasley and I are friends now," Sam announced when she showed up for dinner.

Mike did a double-take. "Sorry?"

"Yeah. He apologized and then we had an actually normal conversation! And then he asked me for advice on girls!" Sam said, sounding a little shocked about all of it.

"He asked you for girl advice?" Adrian scoffed. Sam nodded. "I feel like he came to the wrong person," Adrian said with a lazy grin.

Sam furrowed her brows.

"I just mean- you're not really like a lot of other girls, are you? I mean, you're friends with us and we're all blokes, and I mean- you know."

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking insulted. "I _don't _know, Adrian, what do you mean?"

Adrian seemed to realize that everyone was looking at him weirdly. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. Just that Sam's odd."

"Mate, shut up," Mike said with a sigh as Sam glared at Adrian.

Adrian looked a little horrified. "Um. Sam-"

"Shut up, Adrian," Sam snapped.

Adrian turned wide eyes on Oliver, who shrugged. Sam didn't get offended a lot, but something told him that being called 'odd' by Adrian and having it implied that he didn't really consider her a girl was a bit demeaning for her.

Adrian really was an idiot with girls that he fancied.

They ate dinner in a very awkward silence as Sam fumed and Adrian kept looking very sheepish.

"Is that Weasley following your advice?" Mike asked, pointing down the row.

All four of them leaned forward simultaneously to watch as Weasley was talking to Penelope, running his hands through his hair and blushing a ton.

He said something and she blushed horribly as well- honestly, they deserved each other- and nodded and then Weasley's face went supernova.

"It just looks like a lot of blushing to me," Oliver shrugged, picking at his bread again as the other three kept watching. He shoved the bread in his mouth, trying to ignore the bad feeling in his stomach- had he eaten something off- as he thought of Weasley walking around Hogsmeade holding Penelope's hand.

* * *

Third Year, October 31st

Percy Weasley was officially dating Penelope Clearwater.

And it was _great. _She was really pretty- amazing hair and really nice blue eyes- and she told great jokes and generally made Percy feel like he was on cloud nine when he was near her.

And also Percy was starting to think that maybe he only liked her as a friend.

Which was terrible, since, according to Anthony, "You have officially found the one girl in the world who'll put up with you enough to actually date you."

And also it was terrible because it was his first relationship and _her _first relationship and Percy couldn't possibly tell her he was ending it because he didn't like her anymore.

And right now, he was walking to Hogsmeade with her and holding her hand and feeling horrible as she laughed at his jokes and was all excited about Honeydukes and butterbeer and everything.

Sweet Merlin...

"Okay, I'm gonna go with George," Anthony called from a few yards away as they headed off to another part of the village. George was one of the boys in their year but he was in Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor. He probably would have been good friends with him had George been in their house, but, as a result, they were just sort of acquaintances who wouldn't mind going to Hogsmeade with each other once in a while.

"See you," Percy waved back, and he and Penny set off for Honeydukes.

Hogsmeade was really, _really_ amazing. They tried all of the free candy samples, bought a large slab of white chocolate- Percy couldn't _stand _dark chocolate- and left with their coin pouches considerably lighter. "Shall we see the post office?" Penny asked.

Percy shrugged. "Sure."

And they went and laughed at the rows of owls and everything and then headed to the joke shop- where Percy found Fred and George bartering with the shop owner. "That's got to be five galleons at most, I'm not handing over seven-"

"Boys, the prices are set. Pay them or leave," the owner said in exasperation.

Percy marched over. "Are they giving you a lot of trouble?" he asked, glaring at his younger brothers.

"No, Perce, we're just trying not to be cheated-"

"He already said the prices are set, don't pester the man-" Percy paused abruptly. "Wait. What the hell are you two doing here? You're first years! Get back to the castle-"

"Shit," George said eloquently. "We'd better go, Fred."

Fred slammed the money on the counter and gathered up their huge bags and marched out with George as Percy stormed after them, threatening to write to Mum.

"Oh, let them go, Percy, they just wanted a bit of fun," said Penelope kindly.

Percy glared after his brothers, who were positively sprinting away from him. "My brothers are more than capable of having fun- and they usually do it by blowing people up."

Penelope laughed.

"I'm not even joking!" Percy said with a smile. "They nearly killed Ron once!"

"Once? Judging by what you're saying, I'm surprised it was only once," Penelope said, looping her arm with his and starting to lead them down the road.

"We have other siblings- they just pick one every other week and drop a Dungbomb on whoever it is," Percy sighed.

"Your family still sounds amazing," Penelope said.

Percy shrugged. He'd never really thought about it- it was a lot to deal with in a house with about ten people in it. But he did have it better than a lot of people- he knew that. His parents loved him- deep, _deep_ down so did his siblings (probably)- and his Mum made him Christmas sweaters every year.

His life could have been a lot worse.

"I guess," Percy said absentmindedly. "Hey, wanna go see the Shrieking Shack?"

Penelope brightened. "Ooh, yes! I've heard it's haunted," she said, excitedly steering them towards it.

Percy rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking. The lengths he was going to tonight to prove it wasn't... ridiculous, honestly.

Soon they came to it- a dilapidated, black and brown building in utter shambles with crumbling mortar and a sagging roof. It was about three stories and quite a ways from the fence they were leaning against to see it. Even the grass around it had scratches and gouges all over it- and it looked trampled and sickly.

Percy shivered at the thought of going in there at midnight, all alone.

"Nice date idea, Weasley."

Percy turned to see Wood standing there with his friends with a hateful look on his face- presumably they were checking out the Shrieking Shack as well. He gave Wood a glare and turned to Penelope. "Okay, let's go before Wood ruins our day."

Sam winked at him conspiratorially as he walked past and Percy shot her an annoyed look.

"You know, I've never really understood what's up with you and Wood?" Penelope asked as they were walking back.

Percy shrugged. "He's a prat. That's pretty much it."

"Yeah, but... you guys are weird," Penelope laughed. "One of you is always laughing at the other- so it seems like you actually hate each other but also that you're joking about all of it."

Percy furrowed his brows. "I don't know. Usually, I don't complicate it that much," he admitted. "Whenever I want to yell at something and don't want to offend anyone, I find Wood and hex him or something. It's easier that way."

"That sounds _insane, _Percy," Penelope said, grinning. "You do hear yourself, right?"

"He cracked an egg on my head once- besides, he does the same thing! And I've done plenty of nice things for him before- you don't see him saying thank you," Percy complained.

"Okay, okay," Penelope laughed. "Let's not keep talking about Oliver Wood, then."

Percy glanced at Penelope as she spoke, moving on to something about Divination- which, thankfully, Percy hadn't taken. She actually looked a bit like Wood- blue eyes, brown hair, pale skin. They were even about the same height.

It was laughable, honestly- how his girlfriend happened to look like his worst enemy.

* * *

Third Year, October 31st

"Psst! Weasley! Wake up!"

Someone was shaking him

Percy groaned and sat up. "Is it morning already?"

"No, you idiot, we're going down to Hogsmeade!" It was Adrian Yew and the rest of his gang, along with a sleepy-eyed Anthony.

Percy flopped back down onto his pillow. "Come off it, you weren't really serious?" He'd certainly complained about it a ton- both in his head and out loud- but they were _actually _going to make him go all the way down there? "It'll take us like three hours!"

"Then you forfeit and we'll take the money," Wood said coldly.

Percy glanced at Anthony, who shook his head. Neither of them even _had _ten galleons. "Okay, fine. This had better be quick, though!"

He rolled out of bed and everyone else started chattering excitedly. "So what's the grand plan for getting out of the castle and back in without being seen?" Percy asked.

"Being sneaky," Sam said.

Percy stopped. _"Being sneaky?"_

"Basically."

"We're all going to die," Anthony groaned.

* * *

Third Year, October 31st

Oliver stifled a yawn as they tiptoed out of the Gryffindor common room- it was pushing 1 AM.

He wasn't sure he bought the whole 'it's haunted' thing, but Mike was adamant about it and Adrian had quickly joined his side... and, of course, they didn't exactly have ten galleons, so they had no choice.

"Wait!" Adrian hissed as he climbed out of the portrait hole. Something had skittered in the corner.

"It's a rat," Weasley said, leaning forward to look. "Now will you hurry up!"

Adrian shot him a glare and moved aside so they could all clamber out.

The rest of the journey was thankfully pretty uneventful- a few times they thought they heard something and they all crammed into closets and things.

Finally, they reached the Entrance Hall and hurried across it, pushing the door open and wincing as the hinges creaked.

Soon, they were outside and were carefully closing the doors. Mike broke into a sprint and they all followed as they hurried across the lawn. Oliver could feel himself waking up a little with the adrenaline and excitement.

They were actually sneaking out of Hogwarts!

Pretty quickly, they reached Hogsmeade, which was trickier. People actually lived here- and if they saw six kids sneaking around, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that not only were they from Hogwarts, but they were also sneaking out against the rules.

_Crunch. _

Everyone scrambled to get behind Honeydukes as a lone man walked across the street, heading into the shop as the bell over the door jingled merrily.

Oliver heaved a sigh of relief, heart pounding. There was a chill in the air that seeped beneath his cloak and into his bones, and the idea of the Shrieking Shack ahead of them wasn't exactly comforting. All of a sudden he wished he'd stayed safely in bed- because even if it wasn't haunted, it was downright creepy.

"Let's go," Mike breathed, creeping forward. They all followed, holding their breath and staying to the edges of the street until they left the town behind, coming to a stretch of land bordered by the Forbidden Forest with a path leading across a small field to the Shrieking Shack.

They followed the path in complete silence- Oliver felt very far from the comforting presence of Hogwarts.

"Okay, we're here," said Anthony. They stood there quietly, just staring at the intimidating figure of the shack.

"You first," Mike whispered to Weasley. Oliver would have said it himself, but he wasn't speaking to Weasley at the moment (at least when he could remember he'd promised himself that.) But he hadn't sought him out in a month- when usually there would have been an argument every other day. He didn't know why he felt exceptionally angry at him- maybe he'd just decided, deep down, that Weasley wasn't worth the effort anymore. He could go boil his head for all Oliver cared.

Weasley shot him a look. "You're the ones proving a point here. You all go first."

"Let's at least get over the fence," Sam said pointedly. "Also, someone please light their wand."

Weasley pulled his out. "Lumos," he whispered, and the tip lit up.

He pointed it at the shack, and Oliver tried not to shudder at how much it looked like a monstrous being illuminated badly like that.

Oliver followed the rest of them over the fence- where they'd all paused again. "Scared, are you?" he asked Weasley and Anthony. Damn it, he'd broken his rule twice today already.

Weasley made a face at him. "No, come on," he said, gesturing for them all to follow him as they started heading for it. Oliver hesitated a moment before trudging up after them until they were only a few feet away.

The wind had picked up and was whistling through the nearby forest, making an eerie sound that seemed to be coming from the shack. "How're we getting in?" Sam asked, pointing at the boarded-up door and windows.

"Look around- there's probably a hole," Anthony said.

They all set to work. "We're taking this entire thing way too seriously, aren't we?" Weasley asked, waving his wand around every crevice and cranny.

Adrian shrugged. "You know we're right, Weasley- you're just scared!"

"Yew, if you actually believe it's haunted, then why the hell are you going in there?" Weasley said in exasperation.

"To piss you off and get ten galleons," Adrian shot back.

Weasley was in the middle of rolling his eyes contemptuously when they heard a whisper from the other side. "I found a hole!" Mike was whisper-yelling.

The two of them hurried over to see that there was indeed a hole in the back, just wide enough for someone thin and small to get through. As third-years, they all qualified as that, so they examined it and prepared to go in.

They sent Adrian in first because he seemed the most willing. "Come in, it's fine," Adrian whispered, poking his head back out.

Oliver gulped and followed, not sure what he was expecting to be inside. Maybe an evil ghost, a row of knives... a bunch of booby traps? Instead, it was a chilly, empty room with hardly any furniture- just a very scratched-up sofa shoved in one corner next to a rickety-looking staircase.

Everyone else clambered in and looked around for themselves.

"Nox," Weasley whispered as they were all glancing at the sofa and ceiling and stuff.

"Are you bloody insane?" Adrian asked as they were thrown into perpetual darkness- only the light of the moon shining through the gaps in the boarded-up windows illuminated the room- and now it was nail-bitingly terrifying in there.

"Hey, if there are ghosts, then we wouldn't be able to see them properly with all this light," Weasley said smugly.

_He _really _believes there's nothing here. _That was why the only thing Weasley had appeared to be worried about was McGonagall catching them.

"Weasley-"

"Shut up!" Sam hissed suddenly.

Everyone glared at her. "No, really, I heard something," she protested.

They all listened- it was a slight tapping sort of sound coming from above them. "It's upstairs," Anthony said unnecessarily- they'd all realized that already.

"Should we go see, then?" Weasley scoffed.

Oliver gave him a cool glare. "Yes. We should." He was pleased to see Weasley blanch a little- it made it worth speaking to him instead of ignoring him and then watching him slowly get more and more annoyed as he realized Oliver wasn't paying attention to him.

"Guys- we've proven the point. It's nearly two, now, we should get going," Anthony protested.

"No, we haven't. Come on," Mike said, dragging Anthony by the arm toward the stairs.

Sam and Weasley exchanged exasperated looks and followed with Oliver trailing behind them all.

The stairs creaked with every small movement and sagged dangerously in a few parts. For a group that was trying to stay silent, they were making altogether too much noise.

Upstairs looked much the same as downstairs- nearly empty room with a banged-up bed in the corner and horrible scratches all over the walls.

"See, there's nothing here," Anthony said. "Now, let's _go."_

"We should check on the next floor," Adrian protested, pointing at the staircase.

Weasley rolled his eyes. "You just can't admit that we're right, Yew. Anthony's right, we've really got to go-"

"Oh, you're just scared-"

"Scared? I'm the one who-"

"Shut up, all of-"

"-brought us up here in the first place-"

"-stupid bet-"

"We're right, come off it-"

"Everyone! SHUT UP!" Oliver roared. "D'you know how much noise we're all making right now? Let's just go back to the castle," he said.

"No way, Ollie, they'll try to say they were right because we didn't-"

Adrian stopped dead as they all started to hear a very eerie noise.

_A high-pitched screaming. _

Everyone absolutely lost it. Mike and Anthony started screaming as well, Sam made a dive for the stairs leading down, Adrian tried to pry apart the boards on the window- probably to jump- and Weasley scrambled for his wand, dropping it on the ground.

Oliver just sort of stumbled back and looked around frantically, searching for the source of the noise. "Everyone get to the stairs! NOW!"

They all nearly trampled themselves heading for it, but they made it downstairs as the noise got louder and louder. "Believe me now, Weasley?" Mike yelled, diving for the hole and scrambling out of it.

They all followed, Oliver's heart nearly pounding right out of his chest. When they emerged into the night- which was actually warmer than inside the shack- they all immediately started sprinting, the sound still ringing in Oliver's ears.

When they reached the fence, they vaulted over it and continued along the path until they were nearly to Hogsmeade- where they then collapsed.

"My wand!" Weasley said, patting his pockets. "I-I dropped it in there-"

"I've got it," Adrian said, handing it over.

Weasley sagged in relief. "Thanks."

They all sat there, panting and trying to calm their heartbeats, for nearly ten minutes. "That was bloody insane," Anthony said after they'd all mostly calmed down.

Oliver chuckled, leaning back to lie in the grass, still breathing heavily. "Sweet Merlin, that was _beyond _insane."

"So we get ten galleons?" Sam asked cockily.

Weasley and Anthony exchanged glances. "See, we haven't got ten galleons..."

Mike glared at them. "So that was all for nothing?"

"No," Oliver said. "You two still owe us money. Whenever you get ten galleons- it's ours. Now can we _please _get back to the castle already?"

Everyone stood up and started walking- the plus side to facing whatever was inside that shack was that they were no longer afraid of the occasional villager they spotted.

Soon, they were back in sight of Hogwarts- which was incredibly relieving- and then they were entering the castle and scurrying across the Entrance Hall. They went up the Marble Staircase and across the corridors and up more stairs until they reached Gryffindor tower. The Fat Lady was thankfully still awake, so they told her the password- "Gillyweed,"- and climbed into the common room.

"Thank Merlin," Adrian said, collapsing on one of the armchairs. "I thought we'd never see this place again!"

Weasley snorted. "Don't be dramatic." He and Anthony didn't hang around- they all went up to the dormitory.

Mike, Sam, and Oliver went and sat next to Adrian. "I can't believe we did that," said Mike, shaking his head.

Sam snorted. "Let me tell you a secret," she said smugly. "That screaming? I bewitched the shack earlier."

There was a moment of silence.

Then they all started yelling at her.

"D'you know how scary that was?"

"Are you _bloody insane-"_

"We should have locked you in there-"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Sam said, holding up two hands in a peace-making gesture. "If you're too loud people are going to get mad at us- it's 2:30 in the morning!"

They all paused, settling for simply glaring at her.

"Hey, it was smart- now we'll be ten galleons richer, whenever they pay up," Sam defended. "And you can't tell me the look on Fawcett's face wasn't hilarious."

Oliver had to give her credit for that. "And Weasley with his wand?"

"Exactly. See, I do things for the common interest of the group. Thank me later," she said, jumping up to go to her dormitory.

They all watched her go, disbelieving looks on their faces.

"She needs to sort out her priorities," Adrian said, shaking his head.

* * *

Third Year, January 28th

"I know what you're going to say," Penny said, cutting him off before he could even begin.

Percy's eyes widened. "You _do?" _

"Yes. _Please _don't say the 'it's not you, it's me,' line, though. Let's just skip that, say we've broken up, and be friends?" Penny asked.

Percy's jaw dropped. "Shit. Was it that obvious what I was about to say? I'm so sorry, really!"

Penny just laughed. "It's okay, Perce. I noticed months ago, honestly- and I'm really fine with it."

"Noticed what?" Percy asked.

"Oliver Wood, of course," Penny said.

Percy furrowed his brows. "What's Wood got to do with this?"

Penny's eyes were twinkling. "Don't go all oblivious on me now, Percy. You know what I'm talking about. I've got one condition- you _have _to invite me to the wedding!"

Percy felt like his face was on fire. "You- you don't mean what I think you mean?"

"Okay, I was joking about the wedding," Penny laughed. "But, really, Percy-"

"Penny, I don't like him!" Percy whisper-yelled. They were in an empty classroom, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Absolutely," Penny said determinedly. "Absolutely- just like you don't like white chocolate."

Percy made a face. "Is this really the right time?" he asked, referring to the fact that they'd just broken up.

Penny shrugged. "Okay. Fine. See you in Charms!" She waved as she left, and Percy actually believed that they might be friends after this. He'd heard from his friends that being friends with exes was usually short-lived, but Penny was being so sweet about the whole thing that it was possible they might actually be able to stay friends afterward.

But what was this crap about him liking Wood?

There was _no way._

* * *

Third Year, May 29th

Oliver was skeptical about three things at the moment.

1) Had he eaten too many sandwiches at dinner last night?

2) Was Charlie ever going to stop looking like a kicked puppy after losing the Quidditch final to Ravenclaw _again?_

3) Should he, Oliver Wood, go down to the library where Percy Weasley was undoubtedly building another book fort thing?

"Oliver, you look constipated, so please stop thinking so hard about whatever it is that's bothering you," Sam laughed. Oliver stuck his tongue out at her.

"Fine," Oliver said. "I'll stop thinking and actually do it, then," he said, standing up.

At the very least, he'd piss Weasley off and it would be satisfying to watch him flush with anger and then miss every time he tried to hex Oliver.

When he got down there, he saw Weasley finishing off the last row of books. Weasley spotted him and glared at him. "You're late, Wood, you can't expect me to keep building these huge things by myself!"

He didn't know what he was more taken aback about- the fact that Weasley had been _expecting _him and was even annoyed that he was late, or that Weasley was offended he had to build these himself. "They're your forts, Weasley, d'you expect Filch to build them?" Oliver asked, stepping over the short column Weasley was still building and sitting down on the already spread blankets.

Weasley snorted. "Like Filch knows where the library is."

Oliver sat down and opened his bag- he'd brought quills and ink this time.

Weasley soon settled in beside him- and Oliver pestered him about hot chocolate and marshmallows and blankets and spells and _everything. _

And when he left late in the night, it was with a smile, because pestering Weasley had to be one of the best pastimes Oliver had found to date.

* * *

Third Year, June 30th

Percy watched wistfully as Hogwarts slowly faded out of view in his train window as the Hogwarts Express carried them all back to London. "I already miss it," he sighed.

Anthony flicked an Exploding Snap card at him. "We'll be back before you know it. Now help me build this tower!"

It was approximately three cards high at the moment. "It's beautiful," Percy said dramatically.

"I know," Anthony said absentmindedly, concentrating on adding a fourth. Resisting the urge to flick his finger and knock the whole thing over and laugh at Anthony's reaction, Percy leaned over and helped.

The only reason they were even able to play Exploding Snap was because they had the whole compartment to themselves- all of the seventh-years were doing some last day at Hogwarts ritual thing they'd come up with in the hallway. (They'd been told to stay out of there for their own safety, apparently it involved dramatic chanting.)

And as they kept building the tower, the rural, wild forests and fields gave way to cities and towns, and, finally, London's streets.

They arrived in the station as they were cleaning up the remains of the exploded tower. Percy changed out of his robes and carefully slid the compartment door open. The hallway smelled a little funny, but there were no seventh-years there, thankfully.

"Have a good summer, Percy," said George, walking past him- the Gryffindor George (there were really too many Georges at Hogwarts.)

Percy waved, still waiting for Anthony to grab his stuff so they could leave. The chatter of the waiting families was filtering through the windows- the sounds of urban London unfamiliar compared to Hogwarts' teenage chaos.

"Bye, Percy!" Sam said, walking down the hallway toward him. Percy smiled.

"See you next year," he said, waving.

"See you, Weasley- I promise I'll hex you _twice _a week next year," Wood announced, leaving with the rest of his friends. Sam hung back, watching them go.

"Percy," she began. Percy waited. "Just... just don't hurt him, okay?"

"Who? Wood?"

"Yeah," Sam said seriously. "Don't."

Percy shrugged. It was _Wood, _all they did was try to kill each other on a daily basis.

Sam's expression cleared a little. "Bye!" she waved and left.

_Well, _Percy thought, _that was odd._

* * *

Third Year, June 30th

Mike had been staring at him the whole day.

"What's up, Mike?" Oliver asked as they left Hogwarts behind, the rattling of the train vibrating between his feet.

Mike shrugged. "Just sleepy, I guess," he said distractedly, shifting his attention to look outside the window.

Oliver shrugged as well and turned back to Adrian and Sam, who were debating whether Arithmancy or Muggle Studies was the better subject. "See, I'm smarter than both of you- I just took Care of Magical Creatures," Oliver cut in.

They both glared at him. "It's Arithmancy, all right- Professor Vector never even gives us homework!" Adrian said.

"Yeah, but Muggle Studies is just reading bad Muggle books and doing nothing," Sam countered.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "So basically whichever class is less work is better?"

They both nodded.

"Can't argue with that," Oliver said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Soon, someone was shaking him awake. "We're here." It was Sam.

"Already? Can I go back to Hogwarts?" Oliver asked, grinning.

"Nope."

They gathered their things, heading down the hallway and saying their goodbyes to everyone.

Sam paused to talk to Weasley- weirdest friendship ever- and Adrian headed off with his younger sister- "See you in July!" he said as he left.

"So..." Mike said, leaning back on the balls of his feet.

Oliver smiled. "See you next month, Mike," he said, turning to leave.

"Wait," Mike said. Oliver turned to see Mike looking really nervous.

"What?" he asked.

"Um..." Mike leaned forward a little- was he _blushing? _"Bye, Oliver."

And then he _kissed _him.

Oliver honestly had no idea what he did- probably just stood there. He knew he closed his eyes, but that was more on instinct than anything.

Mike pulled back after about two seconds, face completely red. He turned on his heel and practically sprinted away, smiling but looking completely embarrassed.

Oliver was left in utter shock.

Oh, _shit. _

* * *

**That chapter was also too long lol- I swear I'll try to stop over-writing so much :) **

**Also about Penelope Clearwater- they actually dated in Percy's sixth/seventh year in the books, but I changed it for this story because it takes place mostly in Percy's fifth year and it wouldn't make sense if he dated Penelope afterward.**

**In case this is my last update before school starts in like a week, I'm just letting you guys know that it's probably gonna be harder for me to write then because homework and stuff ugh lol- but I'm also planning to do NaNaWriMo with this story so you'll get a lot of updates in November at least.**

**Pretty please review :)**

**See ya next time!**

**-Cupcakes Can Write Too**


	4. The One Where Charlie Went Crazy

**This is actually part 1 of their Fourth Year because there was just too much going on to squeeze it into one chapter- it would have been like 15,000 words. I wanted it to be one part like the others- but Oliver and Percy's banter just wanted to go on and on lol. That being said, it is like 500 words shorter than the others, but I don't think that's noticeable anyways :)**

**So I've been doing nothing but write for like a week straight- that is why you have all these chapters so soon after one another. This fast update schedule will be _seriously _compromised once school starts :(**

**Thank you to kikix for reviewing- your reviews are so nice, thank you!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Fourth Year, July 27th

"Hey, Ollie!" Sam ran up to him and hugged him, tightly.

Oliver grinned, a warm feeling filling his stomach. Hugging her back, he felt a small measure of satisfaction in the fact that he was finally taller than her.

"Oliver! Mate- you're not a midget anymore!" It was Adrian, whose blue eyes were glittering.

Oliver pretended to glare at him. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," he said, hugging him as well. "Where's Mike?" he asked, his heartbeat already speeding up.

He'd had a lot of time to think about what had happened on the train.

And he honestly had _no idea _how he felt about any of it. He didn't know if he liked blokes or he didn't, if he liked _Mike _or he didn't- and he especially had no idea what he was going to say to him when he saw him.

"Right here!" Mike said. Oliver glanced around the room for the first time since entering the house- Sam attacking him with a hug had kept him from actually seeing anything.

It was big- much bigger than Adrian's house- and was neat, which made sense for Mike's family.

Oliver waved a little awkwardly and walked away feeling a little guilty as Mike looked disappointed. He just didn't want to deal with being in a relationship or figuring out all of that stuff right now. "Cookies?" asked Mike's mum, walking into the living room with a whole tray from the kitchen.

Everything was forgotten in favor of food.

They caught up about everything and anything that had happened in the month since school had ended, and for a few hours Oliver almost forgot about all the dilemma with Mike. Almost.

Later that night, after Mike had shown them around his huge house- really, it was bordering on being a mansion- and they'd all settled into separate rooms in the same hallway, Oliver cornered his friend.

Sam was somewhere in her room and Adrian was out on his broom because Mike's house was on this huge estate that also happened to have a Quidditch pitch- so they were alone in Oliver's room.

"Look, Mike, about... about what happened on the train," Oliver began.

Mike's face flushed immediately. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't have- I..."

"No, it's fine," Oliver said quickly. "I just... I don't really know?" he said uncertainly. "I don't know about blokes or girls or whatever," he said pathetically.

Mike stepped closer to him. "That's fine, Oliver- I know it's..." He didn't really need to finish that sentence. Twenty years ago, it would have been illegal. Oliver had looked into it a little out of curiosity- and some of it was a little scary. It used to be punishable by death- but, of course, that was 100 years ago.

Now, it was technically legal- but that didn't mean people wouldn't look at Mike with disgust if they knew.

It was... really messed up, honestly- the attitude some people had to it. "Can we just not worry about it?" Mike asked.

"That would be great, really," Oliver said, relieved. "We'll just go on as friends?"

Mike nodded- and Oliver was sad to see he still looked a little disappointed- but Oliver couldn't have been more grateful. He had a lot to worry about- and he didn't really think he needed to add all of the relationship drama onto the pile. It looked confusing enough without all of the extra worries of possibly liking blokes instead of girls.

He knew he liked Mike- but was it the butterflies in his stomach, I-want-to-date-you kind of like, or was it just as friends?

And all of this mental disarray was _exactly _why he didn't think he needed to worry about this when he was fourteen- he'd probably be terrible at dating a _girl, _much less a bloke.

"My mum has hot chocolate," Mike said with a grin.

Oliver snorted as they left to go get some. "I reckon I'll be fat by the end of this summer," he said, only half-joking. This woman's cooking was _amazing._

* * *

Fourth Year, September 1st

Percy was about ready to punch something. "FRED! GEORGE! I swear to _Merlin, _let go of my trunk!"

They were about to empty its contents out of the third-story window in the Burrow, and his mum was two floors down making breakfast for ten people, so he was on his own at the moment.

"Nope, Percy- it's going over!" They shoved it out.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" Percy yelled, sprinting to the window. He levitated it safely up and onto the stairs with a thud, turning his furious gaze on his siblings. "What the _hell-" _

"Perce, you're gonna get expelled!" Fred- or George- said.

Percy rolled his eyes. "If you knew anything about _anything, _you'd know that magic is detected based off of location, so we can actually do magic at home since our parents are wizards as well and they'll just think it was-"

He paused in utter horror. "Shit, I should _not _have told you that!"

They were already leaving. "Thanks for the info, Perce!"

Percy groaned.

His mother was coming up the stairs. "Oh, ready, Percy? Great, come downstairs and have some toast- PUT THAT DOWN, GEORGE!"

Percy stepped far out of her way as she went thundering down the stairs- his mother's anger was a force to be reckoned with. "Hey, Charlie," he said as his brother came out of his room.

"-got to get that Chaser on _this _side- oh, hi, Percy," Charlie said, staring at a roll of parchment and prodding it with his wand occasionally. "Quidditch planning," he said in response to Percy's quizzical look. He went down the stairs as well, muttering to himself and squinting at the parchment.

His family was bloody _insane._

* * *

Fourth Year, September 1st

"Oliver, we're going to be late!" Sam called from the other room.

Oliver rolled over and grunted something unintelligible.

"OLIVER!"

Oliver glanced up blearily, then closed his eyes again.

"Good night."

* * *

Fourth Year, September 1st

"Perce!"

"Anthony!" Percy hugged his friend, who had thankfully gotten rid of the horrible haircut he'd had last year.

"You don't have glasses!" Anthony said in disbelief.

"Contact lenses," Percy responded. "I'm trying them out- not sure how well it's going to go," he said honestly.

"You look _completely _different," Anthony said, shaking his head.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Nice to know."

He looked around- half of his siblings were talking to Wood. "Have you no loyalty to your brother?" he asked dramatically.

Charlie didn't even look up- he'd already shoved a chart of Quidditch maneuvers under an entirely too enthusiastic Wood's nose. Fred and George were all too happy to assure him Wood was a much better member of the family than he was. "Weasley, I forget these are your siblings sometimes," Wood said. "As I said last year- they're all _much _nicer than you are."

Wood was still wearing Muggle clothing- trousers and a shirt- and some gray newsboy hat that looked like he'd brought it from one of Percy's dad's 1950s movies.

"You slapped me in the face!" Percy exclaimed. "_Excuse_ me for not worshiping you!"

"You're excused. Bye!" Wood waved as George high-fived him.

Percy glared at him. "If this wasn't a public train platform, I'd have hexed you already."

"Nah, Weasley- short people aren't good at magic," Wood said absentmindedly.

"Short people?" Percy scoffed.

Wood walked over to stand next to him. "Who's taller?" he asked the twins smugly. Percy glanced at Wood- they looked about the same height... there was _no way..._

Fred and George had scary smiles on their faces. "Oliver," they said simultaneously.

Percy reached up and yanked Wood's hat off. _"Now _who's taller?"

Wood tugged his hat back and fitted it back on his head. "We're the same height."

"Then don't make short people jokes about _me-"_

"You two play Quidditch?" Wood asked, already ignoring Percy in favor of the twins.

"We're trying out this year- Beaters," they said excitedly.

"Charlie better let you on the team," Wood said, grinning at them.

_Why _was all his family head over heels for Wood? And why was Wood also head over heels for them?

"Hey, Weasley- ten galleons?" Wood prompted. That stupid bet from Hogsmeade was still haunting him a _bloody _year later!

Percy dug around in his pockets and produced the money, handing it over to a ridiculously smug Wood.

* * *

Fourth Year, September 17th

"All right, team," Charlie began.

Oliver stifled a yawn- this was too important to miss. Charlie had assembled the Gryffindor team _very _early this year. The three Chasers were Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell, the Beaters were the Weasley twins, the Seeker was Charlie, of course, and Oliver was the Keeper.

Everyone was saying that their team was too young- it _was _mostly second years, after all, but Charlie said the talent just happened to be among the younger ones this year. Oliver certainly didn't have a problem with it- they were all great.

But Charlie looked a little hysterical as he started detailing their rigorous practice routine- every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and alternating Saturdays and Sundays- as well as a few random Thursdays whenever he'd managed to get ahold of the pitch.

"We're in this to _win it," _Charlie said forcefully. Gryffindor hadn't won since Charlie had been made Captain, and it looked like Charlie wasn't letting it stay that way.

The younger ones looked a little taken aback, but they put their hands in the center with Charlie and Oliver and yelled. "GO GRYFFINDOR!" together.

"Okay, folks, let's get practicing!" Charlie announced, leading them out to the pitch.

Oliver felt a rush of excitement- it was Saturday morning, the sun was shining, the Quidditch pitch looked fresh and inviting. He kicked off on his broom and shot into the air, whooping as he felt the rush of the wind. His Quidditch gear shielded him from any chill there would have been, leaving him to free to relish in the feeling of flying.

He shot for the goalposts, taking position in the center.

Charlie threw the Quaffle as he shot into the air, and the practice began.

Two hours later, Oliver dived for the ground, almost gratefully getting off his broom. The younger ones looked a little scared of Charlie- even Oliver had to admit he'd never worked them so hard before.

But it was worth it- because they were absolutely taking home the Quidditch Cup this year.

* * *

Fourth Year, October 13th

Oliver had done nothing but fly on the Quidditch pitch for _weeks. _His studies had been forgotten- he was a week behind on assignments in Transfiguration, _two _weeks behind in Herbology, and there was a half-written Potions essay upstairs that was probably never going to be finished.

But he wasn't worried about any of that- it was the first Quidditch game of the season, and Ravenclaw's team was the best it had been in years.

And he was nervous- for the first time in three years, he was _nervous _for a Quidditch game.

He slid his leather gloves on, making sure all of his gear was tight. His hands clenched into fists, then uncurled and set about fingering the edge of his cloak absentmindedly as Oliver walked over to hear Charlie's speech.

"Okay, team- we've worked our arses off this season. We've done _nothing _but practice since school bloody started- we're ready for this," Charlie said, determined. The twins- nonchalant as always- nodded and tossed their bats around.

"Ravenclaw doesn't stand a chance," piped up Katie Bell.

Charlie grinned- still looking like a madman- and gestured outside, to the screaming crowd and occasional flash of Madam Hooch flying by. "Let's win this thing! GO GRYFFINDORS!"

They all cheered and prepared to head out- butterflies still flying in Oliver's stomach.

"Hey, guys, we're forgetting something," Fred said. Oliver turned back as the twins walked over to him and rapped him on the head- not very hard.

"What?"

"Knock on wood," George said. "It's good luck." And with that, he walked out.

Oliver couldn't decide whether to laugh or hex the kid. To his surprise, everyone else pretty much shrugged and did it as well. "Guys- my heads' not a door for you to knock on!" he laughed, trying to duck out of the way.

"I'll take any kind of luck at this point," Charlie said grimly.

Katie Bell had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his head- grumbling, Oliver leaned down as they all laughed. "This better not become a daily thing!" he called to Fred and George. They shrugged.

Everyone else had left, leaving Oliver alone in the changing rooms as they waited for him.

He sighed, lightly tapped his fist on his own head, and walked out as well, broom in hand.

_All of this good luck better win us the game,_ he thought, kicking off into the sky.

* * *

Fourth Year, October 13th

"AND THE GAME BEGINS! Gryffindor's got the Quaffle- Spinnet passes to Bell, snaps back to Johnson- AND SHE PUTS IT THROUGH THE GOAL, 10-0 TO GRYFFINDOR!" Lee Jordan screeched into the megaphone.

Percy and Anthony were sitting in the third row of stands, almost right behind the Gryffindor goalposts. Everyone around them was cheering and jumping up and down.

Anthony had been eating a piece of toast from breakfast- it had now been knocked out of his hand and trampled as Percy laughed at his attempts to salvage it. "Crazy Gryffindors," he grumbled.

"You'll be cheering just as hard when we win," Percy said, screaming with everyone else.

"And now Ravenclaw is in possession- Thorne to Bailey, Bailey to Allen- ALLEN SHOOTS-" Percy watched as Wood shot forward, swiveling upside down and ending up kicking the Quaffle away. "AND WOOD'S SAVED IT! Quaffle caught by the _very _beautiful Angelina Johnson, passes to Bell, passes to Spinnet- oooh, Spinnet dodges a Bludger- Fred or George Weasley hits it into Allen- ha, take _that, _you-"

McGonagall could be seen saying something angrily to Lee, who nodded urgently and went back to speaking. "Quaffle with Ravenclaw- IS THAT THE SNITCH?!"

Charlie had gone into a dive, side by side with Adams- the Ravenclaw Seeker. "They're diving, diving, still bloody diving- WEASLEY- never mind, looks like they're going up again- close call, folks. All right, Quaffle's still with Ravenclaw- Thorne to Allen, Allen to Thorne- BLUDGER TO WOOD- dodges it, Quaffle with Bailey, passes to Allen, Bludger to Allen, Quaffle caught by Bell as he dodges- SHE SHOOTS- ah, Harrington's saved it."

Ten minutes later, the score was twenty-twenty and Charlie was up there losing his mind. "THIRTY MORE POINTS! THEN I CAN CATCH THE BLOODY SNITCH!"

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "He's a little... intense, isn't he?"

"He _really _wants the Cup this year- and Wood's not far behind him," Percy said, shooting Wood a look as he flitted about in front of the goalposts.

He had to admit Wood was a pretty darn good flier- he didn't even look like he was riding a broom- it looked like it was a natural extension of him.

"THORNE SHOOTS-" Percy watched as Wood swerved his broom, snapping to the left- "And he _scores, _30-20 with Ravenclaw leading," Jordan groaned as the blue-clad portion of the crowd jumped up and down. Wood angrily snatched the Quaffle from where it had gone through the left goalpost and whipped it to Alicia Spinnet, looking downright murderous.

Twenty minutes later, _everyone _had gone insane- including Percy. "WOOD, IF YOU LET ONE MORE GOAL THROUGH I'LL KILL YOU!"

Wood, apparently, had actually heard him- they were sitting right behind him, after all. "Well, anything for _you, _Weasley!" he yelled sarcastically, shooting upwards and catching the Quaffle. Percy's throat felt raw with all the cheering and screaming.

"THIRTY BLOODY POINTS, PEOPLE!" Charlie was yelling. The score was 70-60 with Ravenclaw leading- they needed to get a lead of thirty points, so the Chasers needed to score four more times while the twins kept the other team occupied and Wood saved every goal they shot. Charlie was busy feinting and diverting the other Seeker from wherever the Snitch was.

Wood saluted him as he threw Katie Bell the Quaffle.

"Okay, folks, the score's 80-100," Lee Jordan said nearly a half an hour later. The game was getting brutal- the Bludgers were flying like cannonballs and both teams had gotten a couple foul shots.

Thorne whipped the Quaffle toward the Gryffindor goalposts as the Ravenclaw supporters screamed like maniacs. "HE SHOOTS- COME ON, OLIVER!" The entire crowd was on edge as Wood dove to the right.

"Didn't he _throw _left?" Anthony asked.

The Quaffle sailed into Wood's hands, and he tossed it easily to Angelina Johnson. "Must have been feinting," Percy muttered, leaning forward to watch as Angelina shot across the pitch.

"Johnson dodges a Bludger, Fred Weasley punts it straight into Allen- bloke's taken a lot of hits today, huh?- passes to Bell... Bell passes to Spinnet- SHE SHOOTS!"

Everyone gasped as one as three things happened at the same time- George Weasley knocked a Bludger right into Adams' face, Katie Bell threw the Quaffle, and Charlie Weasley dived from a height of about ninety feet.

There was silence for a few moments- then the action started up again. Percy was screaming himself hoarse as he caught sight of a glint of gold in Charlie's path- he was going to catch the Snitch! "BELL SCORES! GRYFFINDOR LEADS 110-80 AS CHARLIE WEASLEY DIVES FOR THE SNITCH!"

"CHARLIE! CHARLIE! CHARLIE!" The Gryffindors were losing their minds.

Charlie leaned forward even more and he took on a burst of speed- Adams was too far behind, blood streaming from his broken nose- _he was going to catch it-_

"GRYFFINDOR WIN!"

And the following cheer was _deafening. _

The six players in the air all dived for where Charlie was beside himself with joy. Percy practically jumped out of his seat to pump his fists in the air and hug Anthony ecstatically. Everyone was already streaming out of the stands to get down onto the pitch and jump up and down some more.

"CHARLIE! CHARLIE! CHARLIE!" The cheer was still going as everyone reached the ground and hoisted the entire Quidditch team onto their shoulders.

It was like they'd already won the Cup.

* * *

Fourth Year, October 13th

Oliver had quite possibly never been as happy as he was at this moment.

Half of the bloody school was in the Gryffindor common room, uproariously beginning what promised to be the best party they'd had in years.

Everyone was clapping him on the back- there were about thirty people still chanting Charlie's name- and someone had snuck the Quaffle and the Snitch into the castle, so everyone was tossing those around as well. Charlie kept letting the Snitch go and then performing some crazy reflex move to catch it as everyone cheered him on.

"BUTTERBEER!" It was the Weasley twins, crawling through the portrait hole with Lee Jordan- and they were holding platters and platters of some very delicious-looking food.

"Slytherin's going to be grumpy about this for _months," _Katie Bell said gleefully.

Slytherins didn't particularly like Ravenclaws, but they'd side with _Hufflepuffs _over Gryffindors, so they were off brooding in their common room while the Gryffindors partied.

Some seventh-year had found a spell for music- and, so, at scarcely four in the afternoon, they were starting a party.

Everyone- including Oliver- was still in their Quidditch gear and were passing their brooms around for admiration- especially Angelina Johnson, who had the newest Nimbus 1500.

"So, Wood, you _finally _did something right," Weasley said, walking over with about fifteen cream puffs in his hands.

"Got _quite _enough food there, Weasley?"

He shrugged. "They're _amazing, _really," he said, stuffing three in his mouth and swallowing hard.

"THINK FAST!" It was Charlie, whipping the Quaffle in their general direction.

Oliver caught it without a second glance and grinned as everyone cheered. "I can _physically _see your ego growing, Wood," Weasley taunted.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Weasley, you wouldn't survive ten seconds on a broom," he laughed, starting to do tricks with the Quaffle- rolling it across his shoulders, spinning it on one finger, and so on.

"Show off," Weasley grumbled. Oliver's grin only grew.

"You just can't handle that I'm better at everything than you," Oliver said casually, tossing the Quaffle across the room at the Weasley twins. Fred caught it without even turning around to look. Oliver whistled along with everyone else- those two had some _serious _talent when it came to Quidditch and pissing off McGonagall.

"I'm sorry, who comes to me every year in the library to save his sorry arse from failing?" Weasley scoffed.

Oliver glared at him. "Do you _have _to be such a prick all the time?"

"I don't know, Wood, do you have to be so _pitifully _dimwitted all the time?" Weasley asked lightly.

Oliver winced against the growing volume of the music as people started dancing. "Bold words coming from someone who should be thanking me for winning Gryffindor a Quidditch game!"

Looking miffed, Weasley stuck his nose in the air and walked off as Oliver laughed at him.

"FIREWHISKEY!" It was some crazy sixth-years pouring into the common room with no less than three crates of the stuff. Oliver raised an eyebrow. Were they going to announce every bit of food they brought in?

Most of the older students cheered and swarmed around the crates, hunting for bottles. Charlie popped the cork off of one, hopped on a couch, and downed half of it in one go as everyone whistled and screamed. "GO GRYFFINDOR!" he yelled, catching the Quaffle as someone threw the Quaffle at him.

Judging by all of the craziness that had already went down, this particular celebration was going to be much more chaotic than previous ones.

* * *

Fourth Year, October 13th

Oliver was right.

Nearly eight hours later, everyone had gone bloody insane. There wasn't anyone above fifth-year who wasn't drunk, Sam was snogging Theo Parker- a Ravenclaw in their year- in the middle of the common room, the music had eventually been bewitched by a Muggleborn and was now playing Muggle music, and Adrian had gotten ahold of the firewhiskey after taking one look at Sam's scene in the center. The sixth-years were playing something called Spin the Bottle and the fifth-years were having some house war-argument type thing in one corner.

And it was only midnight.

"Everyone's started bloody cults now, haven't they?" asked Weasley, sliding onto the couch next to him with a mug of butterbeer.

Oliver snorted. "Wait until the Muggleborns hear another song they like-"

STOMP. STOMP. CLAP. "WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!"

"There they go," Oliver remarked mildly as half of the common room- drunk or not- stumbled up and did some dance routine.

"Wood, I'm glad you won, but this should not happen again," Weasley said with mild horror as the fifth-years started hexing each other. "Do you think we should do something?" he said uncertainly.

Oliver shrugged. "The Prefects'll take care of it," he said, putting his hat over his face- _yes, _he was still wearing the newsboy hat every minute he didn't have Quidditch gear on.

"They're drunk," Weasley said worriedly.

"Don't be an idiot, Weasley- they'll make you spill your butterbeer," Oliver yawned. Eight hours of celebrating was driving everyone insane- McGonagall would probably storm in here within the next couple of hours and make them all go to bed.

"Are you _sleepy, _Wood? With all this racket?"

Oliver removed the hat and looked at him reproachfully. "Saving goals seventy feet in the air is probably harder than you think," he said.

He didn't look chastised. "I think the costumes are a little stupid."

That certainly woke Oliver up. "Costumes?" he said, scandalized, as he sat up and glared at Weasley.

Weasley snorted. "This entire... get-up," he said, gesturing at Oliver's leather gloves, cloak, shoulder pads, etc.

"Excuse you, this is an official uniform- every piece of it has a purpose!" Oliver said, getting worked up.

"THINK FAST!"

Oliver's hand shot out to catch the Quaffle- it was still being tossed around- without even looking or breaking his gaze with Weasley. He was so _infuriating _sometimes.

"Well, I think it's unnecessary. People really make a huge deal about Quidditch- it's just people riding brooms and dodging crazy flying balls," Weasley said matter-of-factly.

Oliver's expression must have been priceless. _"Just dodging flying balls?! _I'd like to see _you _play Quidditch for five bloody minutes, you wouldn't survive-"

"I'm not saying I'd be great at it. I'm just saying everyone playing it is basically asking to get hit in the head with a Bludger," Weasley shrugged as if he wasn't committing a serious crime by saying all of this.

"ASKING TO GET HIT IN THE HEAD? Weasley, if you don't-"

"Hi, everyone!" Mike said overly cheerfully, sitting between Oliver and Weasley.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"

Adrian was close behind him- he sat on the floor right in front of them. "Nope. I only had two bottles," he said, slurring his words.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "We have class tomorrow," he said- he'd honestly forgotten as well.

Weasley shot up, splashing steaming hot butterbeer everywhere. _"We have class tomorrow," _he said as if he'd seen a ghost.

Oliver smirked. "Have fun being late- or, better yet, missing class altogether!"

Weasley stood up. "I'm going to bed- everything's descended into chaos anyways," he said hurriedly, making to leave.

Oliver stuck his foot out and Weasley stumbled over it, falling flat on his face. Oliver smirked wider as Weasley peeled himself off the ground, giving him a death glare. "Clumsy, huh, Weasley?"

Weasley glowered at him before his gaze flicked to his nearly full mug of steaming butterbeer. Oliver only had time to see an evil grin spread across his face before Weasley turned the mug upside down right onto Oliver's head.

Oliver's jaw dropped and he sprang up, ripping his pristine Quidditch cloak off- _nothing _was damaging that beautiful garment- and whirling on Weasley with the remains of yellow butterbeer dripping from the ends of his hair. "WEASLEY!"

Weasley was laughing his head off and scampering away as Oliver drew his wand and pointed it at him. "IMPEDIMENTA!" Oliver yelled- it was the first spell he could think of. They'd only learned it three days ago- maybe that was why.

It basically froze him in place- mid-stride and halfway across the common room. Oliver sprinted over, grabbing a bottle of firewhiskey and over-turning it on Weasley's slowly-turning-purple face.

He realized half of the common room was watching him and laughing their heads off. "He deserved it," Oliver said to the group at large, setting them off again.

"What's Weasley done to you?" asked a Hufflepuff sixth-year.

Mike stumbled over, slurring his words as he said, "It's like a _thing, _Bobby. They've been hexing each other since first year."

The Hufflepuff looked miffed as he said, "My name's not even Bobby."

The crowd started cracking up again at this exchange.

"Are you _all _drunk?" Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow. There were_ first-years_ giggling at them.

"No, mate, you guys are bloody hilarious," Adrian said, shuffling over. "Haven't you noticed?"

Oliver glared at him. "No, I was a little busy trying to defend myself against all of his evilness," he said.

There was a muffled yell from where Weasley was struggling to move.

"I guess it _is _funny when Weasley messes up," Oliver laughed.

He was frozen with his face a mask of fury as firewhiskey dripped out of the ends of his hair.

Oliver ran a hand through his own, wincing as it came away wet with butterbeer. He set about wringing it out and making snide remarks about Weasley and snickering as he was unable to reply.

"LEVICORPUS!" Evidently, Weasley had regained movement of his limbs. Oliver felt the blood rush to his head as he was flipped upside down. He grinned, not really bothered- he didn't have robes to worry about- it was just Quidditch gear and it was designed for a lot of crazy movement. All of the butterbeer was at least dripping off his head.

Everyone was laughing again. "We missed out on some quality entertainment for four years," snorted one of the fifth-years.

Oliver winked at a group of giggling second-years. "Planning on letting me down, Weasley?"

Weasley was glowering at him again. "You're a real _prat, _you know that?"

Oliver winked at him as well. "Then why'd you come sit next to me? Surely you knew what you'd be getting into-"

Weasley dropped him on his head.

Oliver groaned as he hit the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his head. "Bloody _hell, _Weasley," he snarled, sitting up and rubbing his head. "Hasn't my poor head suffered through enough today with the _butterbeer?"_

Weasley smirked. "Obviously not."

Oliver scrambled to his feet and dived for him, knocking them both over as Weasley made a sound like a cornered cat. "GET OFF ME!"

"YOU COMPLETE AND _UTTER _GIT-"

"Okay, everyone," Adrian said, plucking them both apart as Oliver tried to lunge for him again. "Let's be friends, now."

"Shut up, Adrian!" They both said at the same time.

"No," Adrian said eloquently. "We're going to play a game."

He dragged them both to the ground, making them sit down. "It's called 'Get Along With Each Other For Five Bloody Minutes And Stop Making All Of Our Bloody Ears Bleed.'"

"Weasley loses," Oliver said, crossing his arms over his chest childishly.

Weasley scoffed. "As _if _I would lose anything to this bas-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Mike said, plopping down next to them. "Let's play a different game: Making Up Scenarios Where Percy and Oliver Don't Try To Kill Each Other All The Time!'"

"Can you imagine if they were related?" said a random third-year. Great, everyone was _still _listening in to this.

Everyone laughed as Adrian found a quill and held it up to his mouth like a megaphone. "Hello, everyone, I'm Adrian Yew and I'm here to tell you about the most unlikely couple of all time: Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood!"

Weasley tried hexing him as well before Mike grabbed his wand. "Not happening."

Oliver just rolled his eyes. "How drunk are you two, exactly?"

"Oliver Wood's a jock. Percy Weasley's a nerd. And in this one, they fall in love," Adrian said, oblivious to everyone crapping their pants laughing and Oliver's patience beginning to run out.

"And they never terrorize their friends with another bloody loud argument again!" Mike chimed in.

Oliver was about to hex them both when Weasley grabbed two cups of butterbeer and emptied them over Adrian and Mike's heads. "Shut. UP!"

And at this point the whole _bloody _common room was laughing.

* * *

Fourth Year, October 14th

Oliver watched as Weasley scurried down the hall, stuffing books into his bag. He smirked- Weasley hadn't seen him leaning against the wall outside the Transfiguration classroom and waiting for class to begin.

"Impedimenta!" he whispered, grinning as the spell hit Weasley, leaving him frozen at the end of the hall. "Have fun being late!" Oliver called to Weasley, laughing as his expression turned murderous. He turned and went into the classroom, still laughing.

Weasley was bloody hilarious to hex.

* * *

Fourth Year, November 16th

_Thump. _

A snowball hit Percy on the back, making him whirl around to see who threw it.

He narrowed his eyes. _Wood. _Percy glanced at his watch. It was Saturday afternoon- he had ages until he had to do anything but laze around the castle anyways. Percy leaned down and balled up some snow, whipping it at Wood when his back was turned.

Wood turned around and gave him an evil smile.

Percy resisted the urge to gulp. Surely Wood wasn't _that _good at snowball fights?

"Perce! You and me versus Wood's gang?" asked Anthony. Percy shrugged and ran over, shooting Wood a glare.

"So what's the plan?" asked Theo Parker. He seemed to be showing up a lot more around the Gryffindors lately. Behind him was George- the Gryffindor one who was in their year- and another girl named Hannah Riley who Percy hadn't really spoken to much.

"Chuck snow at them, what else?" grinned Hannah. "LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!"

Everyone started screaming war cries and balling up huge amounts of snow. Percy gave them all an odd look and crouched down, making a snowball himself. He was already shivering- he _hated _winter.

_Whoosh. Whoosh. Thump. Whoosh. _

Snow was flying, people were squealing- Percy laughed at Anthony's expression as Sam's snowball hit him straight in the face. "Shut up, Percy, or else we're all ganging up on you!"

On the other side, Wood was apparently using his Herbology textbook as a shield and blocking snowballs. "Don't be such a nerd, Oliver!" screamed Fred and George.

"That's cheating!" Percy yelled.

Wood rolled his eyes. "It's called being smart!"

Percy heaved up a whole mound of snow while he wasn't watching and snuck up behind him as his back was turned. His stomach flipped in excitement as he dropped the whole heap of snow on his head.

Wood's face was priceless. He was soaking wet from head to shoulders, and he spluttered, wiping snow off his face and his stupid newsboy hat angrily. He roared- literally- and launched himself at Percy.

They landed in the snow as Percy squealed embarrassingly. "I'm going to _kill _you, Weasley!" he yelled as they fell.

Before he could respond, Wood was smearing a whole bunch of snow all over his face. Percy gasped as its icy touch sank into his skin. "Wood! S-stop!" he stammered, trying to pry Wood's icy cold hands off him.

He could hear laughter as both the teams cracked up at them. Since the Quidditch party a month ago, most of the school had sort of realized there was a rivalry thing going on with Wood and Percy- and they found it hilarious, which was nice when Percy hexed him or something and Wood was left to be embarrassed, but it wasn't so nice when it was _him _they were laughing.

It also wasn't funny when Fred and George were running around taking bets on when he and Wood were going to start snogging.

"WOOD!" Percy roared as the other boy grabbed a huge handful of snow and held it over Percy's face- which Percy had _just _wiped the snow off of. It was dripped down his cloak and everything- he'd have to change all his clothes after this. "You wouldn't," he said in horror. It was practically a _square foo_t of snow.

Wood smiled evilly- and Percy remembered when he'd done the same thing about five minutes ago.

_I should_ not _have done this, _Percy thought to himself gloomily as Wood dumped all of it on Percy.

* * *

Fourth Year, November 16th

About a half an hour later, Percy was curled up on his bed wearing three blankets and still feeling a little cold. After Wood had dropped all that snow on him and everyone had had a good laugh, he hexed him pretty well with the Bat-Bogey Hex, left him to fend for himself, and ran up to the castle to get all that horrid, cold snow off of him.

Now, Wood was probably showering in the bathrooms that a door in their dormitory led to. Percy was reading a book angrily- if that was possible, especially since it was a Muggle book about magic, and it was hilarious how much they were getting wrong.

"Ugh, Weasley, what're you doing in here?" Wood groaned. Percy looked up and made a face at Wood- he'd just come out of the bathroom and was rubbing a towel through his wet hair. He was wearing Muggle clothes, for some reason- trousers and a gray shirt. He plopped that stupid hat on his head and Percy felt that prickle of anger- that hat just _pissed him off _for some reason.

And Wood knew it- so he made a point to wear it all the time _because _Percy hated it.

"It's my dormitory too, Wood- I'm reading, not committing a crime," Percy snapped, completely out of patience with Wood.

Wood put a hand to his heart as though offended. "Perce, I thought we were friends," he said sarcastically.

Percy's heart jumped as Wood called him by his nickname. _"Please, _let's stick to last names."

Wood's grin only grew. "Nah, I don't thinks so... since it obviously pisses you off," he said, flopping down onto his four-poster bed. "Hmm... what nickname would annoy you the most?"

Percy groaned. "You like this whole... _thing, _don't you?"

"Of course. It's bloody hilarious most of the time," Wood said as if it was obvious.

Percy slammed his book shut. "You know it's bloody insane, right?"

"Who gives a damn?"

Percy glared at him. "Me. Because you've been tormenting me for years, Wood."

Wood didn't respond, and Percy finally looked up from where he'd started reading his book to find Wood staring at him, looking very confused and a little disappointed, if Percy wasn't wrong. Percy sighed, feeling oddly happy that Wood just couldn't handle the fact that Percy wanted him to _truly _leave him alone. "Wood... if you start calling me _Perce, _then I'm going to _hurl." _He didn't know why the hell he wasn't welcoming the fact that Wood had been about to forget all about him- but he just didn't like the idea of that.

Wood's grin was infectious. "Since we do live in the same room, that'd be unfortunate. I'll find something else, darling," he winked.

Percy's heart stopped. _Darling? _

"Aha! _That's _a good one," Wood muttered to himself as Percy tried not to freak out.

"No," Percy said bluntly. "Or else I'm telling everyone that your full name is Oliver _Valencia _Wood."

"That's- that's _not _my middle name!" Wood exclaimed.

Percy smirked. "They don't know that, do they?"

"Whatever, darling," Wood said, changing tactics.

"Shut up, _Valencia." _Wood just continued smirking, straightening that infuriating hat as his infuriating, perfect blue sparkled and his infuriating, beautiful face curled into a cocky grin-

_Wait. _

Percy was about to have a bloody _heart attack. _

_No way._

_No fucking way._

He was sure his eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging open- thankfully, Wood wasn't paying attention to him. No, no, _no- _how the hell-? Why?

_Percy Weasley could not be in _love _with Oliver Wood. _

_The world wasn't allowed to be that bloody stupid._

The problem was that Percy's racing heart and his insane reaction to being called 'darling' and Wood's bloody hat- which Percy realized he _didn't _hate at all, but he actually thought was kinda hot- and every single thing they'd said to each other for the last four years was contradicting him.

He was going over every single instance he'd unwittingly swooned over the bloke- and it turned out it was every five _bloody _seconds. Every time Wood ran a hand through that dark, brown hair, every time Wood smirked at him, every Quidditch game when he was wearing that Quidditch gear that a human shouldn't be allowed to look _that _good in...

How many times had he marveled over Wood's blue eyes and Quidditch skill? Hadn't he been worried when he'd landed himself in the hospital wing a few years ago?

Didn't he think that _bloody _hat was _bloody _hot?

Percy flopped down on his back, staring at the ceiling of his four-poster bed.

_Bloody hell._

* * *

**I don't know who posted the pin, but the 'knock on wood' scene idea is credited to whatever Tumblr user posted it lol. **

**Look who figured their life out! Three cheers for Percy Weasley! *applause* Oliver Wood's a bit lacking in the 'figuring out life' department at the moment, unfortunately for him and Percy and also fortunately for us! **

**Also, I'm kinda nervous I'm not portraying the LGBTQ+ stuff correctly- please let me know via review if I get any of the history or even just the attitudes to it wrong, I would really hate to offend anyone :) **

**I hope you liked it! Pretty please review :)**

**See ya next time!**

**-Cupcakes Can Write Too**


	5. The One Where Percy Fainted

**Hey peeps! Here's part two of Oliver and Percy's fifth year- also the twins start becoming more important characters starting in this chapter so YAY (because who doesn't love the Weasley twins?)**

**Also it totally hasn't been AGES since I updated lol... school happened, I'm sorry :( Also remember when I said was doing NaNoWriMo with this story? Turns out I lied :( sorry again lol.**

**Thanks to kikix for reviewing- these reviews honestly just make my day! I would feel guilty about taking you away from your schoolwork, but I frequently procrastinate to read fanfiction, so I don't think that would be fair of me lol. Your reviews are absolutely not spam- I swear my jaw dropped at the notification because the review count had doubled? In an HOUR? So thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the chapter :)**

**Also thanks to Shifa for reviewing- the next one's now because I saw the review and had motivation to write lol :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Fourth Year, November 16th

"Hmm... so love potion?" asked George.

"No, you idiot, he wants to spell it out in fireworks-"

"Love potion!"

"Fireworks!"

"LOVE POTION!"

"FIRE-"

"SHUT UP!" Percy roared, cutting them off. "Don't make me regret bloody telling you!"

They both simultaneously raised their eyebrows and sat down on Fred's bed. They were in the second year dormitories, just a floor below Percy's dormitory. It had hardly been three hours since their snowball fight- only one since Percy's revelation.

In a panic of _what the actual heck is happening, _he'd gone to the twins- the worst idea he'd ever had, judging by their reaction. They'd simply grinned at him, said "I told you so!" at the same time, and then begun this debate.

"Fine," Fred groaned. "So what're you going to do? Because-"

"-we'd love to help you," George finished with a cheeky grin.

Percy's heart was beating a crazy rhythm in his chest and his mind was racing. He didn't want to deal with the twins right now- further proving that it had been a bad idea to tell them first- and he was torn between wanting Wood to know and also wanting him to never find out.

"Ah, George-"

"-poor boy's lovesick already," they said together.

Percy rolled his eyes, knowing his cheeks were coloring. "I'm _not _lovesick!"

Fred and George exchanged glances and grins. "I've got it," George said.

"Let's just go tell him straight out!" Fred finished.

Percy gasped as they started to race out. He pictured Wood's face if he found out Percy was in love with him- that smirk, the knowing glance, the uncontrollable amounts of arrogance.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground in a faint.

* * *

Fourth Year, November 16th

"Perce? Percy, wake up!" It was Fred, waving a hand in front of Percy's face.

He groaned. "What happened?" He thought back to the last thing he remembered- and shot up suddenly, his head nearly colliding with Fred's. "DID YOU TE-"

"No, mate, calm down," George laughed. "We were joking."

"It's our specialty," Fred said proudly.

Percy sighed in relief, shuddering in horror again at the thought of Wood finding out. "Promise me you're _never _telling him!" he said angrily.

"But, Perce, we want you to date him and get married and adopt five kids and-"

"GEORGE!"

The twins groaned. "Fine," they said simultaneously as Percy relaxed again.

He didn't see their fingers crossed behind their backs.

* * *

Fourth Year, November 17th

"Okay, team- I know we're still happy about our win from October," Charlie said, far too grimly for this to be a fun practice for the team. Oliver didn't mind- Quidditch was fun, sure, but he was here to _win. _"But we've got a lot of shaping up to do. Hufflepuff's got themselves a great set of Chasers, Slytherin has a new Seeker and a perfect set of Beaters- and Ravenclaw's started some ultra-hardcore training routine after that match," he said, sighing.

Oliver's heart went out to him as he saw all the stress Charlie was under. Maintaining a Quidditch team had to be hard- and Charlie was a great captain.

"But we've got a few tricks up our sleeves yet!" Charlie said enthusiastically. Everyone gave him a cheer. "Okay- Fred, George, I've got you guys doing push-ups for the rest of the practice."

Their faces were turning white. "Uh- Charlie," they began.

"No buts," Charlie said. He blew his whistle. "Drop and give me fifty!"

Fred and George shuffled outside, grumbling. Oliver saw them drop to the ground through the window (yesterday's snow was only a happy memory now) and suppressed a smile- this obedience was surely hiding an ulterior motive.

"Katie, Angelina, Alicia- you guys are trying out a game called handball with me. It's a Muggle thing- bit like Quidditch, but on the ground," Charlie said. They shrugged.

"So no brooms today?" Oliver asked.

"Well... no. It's a conditioning day. You need strong players to play Quidditch- they've got to be good at more than fancy flying," Charlie admitted. "You, Oliver, have got to be on alert the whole time. You're running laps around the pitch- and I expect you to catch everything they throw at you. You can eat it if you catch it," he said with a grin.

Oliver shot him an odd look, but he set his broom on the bench anyways as Charlie blew his whistle. "Let's go, team!"

Less than five minutes later, Oliver found out what Charlie meant. He'd hardly gotten a hundred yards around the boundary of the pitch when something small came flying at him- something that glittered purple, for some reason. Remembering Charlie's orders, Oliver's fist closed around it.

Charlie's whistle blew. "Keep at it, Oliver!"

Oliver opened his fingers as he ran and grinned- it was a small chocolate from Honeydukes, and it was caramel, his favorite flavor. He stuffed it into his mouth and kept running, glad for the chilly wind that was blowing through the area at the moment. His skin felt cold even under his warm Quidditch gear- but that was good when it came to the running he was going to be doing for the next hour.

More and more things kept occasionally flying at him- Angelina's bracelet, Fred's tie, Charlie's shoe- it was getting really random.

"What _won't_ Wood catch?" remarked George sarcastically as Oliver flew past. He grinned.

"Your ugly brother," he called as he went, making everyone laugh. He tossed their belongings back to them as Fred and George collapsed after doing after fifty push-ups.

"FRED! GEORGE!" It was Charlie, yelling at them to get up again.

Oliver laughed again as the twins struggled to get up again- those push-ups did _not _look fun. "I see you smiling, Wood!" called one of the twins spitefully.

About an hour later, everyone had already collapsed about three times- including Oliver. Charlie's whistle was as loud as ever, but, this time, it signaled the end of one of their most grueling Quidditch practices ever. "Next practice is in two days!" Charlie reminded them as they all sprinted for the changing rooms before he could change his mind and make everyone start working again.

Oliver collapsed onto the bench and ran a hand through his hair, cringing at how sweaty he felt. His lungs were surely _never _going to recover from all of that running. "I'm going back to the castle," he said to no one in particular- he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort to shower right now- saluting Charlie as a goodbye.

"Go Gryffindor," Charlie said far too solemnly.

Oliver managed a half-hearted smile as he trudged across the pitch and then the grounds before realizing he was still wearing his Quidditch robes. He groaned and shot a longing glance at the cool shade of the castle, just in reach of him.

He chose the shade of the castle- he could just carry his robes back with him later. Entering the Entrance Hall with a sigh of relief, he tugged off his Keeper gloves and started making his way up the Marble Staircase. The halls were relatively empty- everyone was probably in the common rooms or the library.

Oliver was just trudging up one of the moving staircases, the chatter of the paintings filling the air, when Weasley came flying down the same staircase, nearly tripping over his own robes. Oliver raised an eyebrow at him, but his eyes widened a second before Weasley crashed right into him, knocking them both down so that they rolled all the way to the landing.

Oliver groaned and tried to sit up- everything hurt even more than it had after practice. "Dammit, Weasley, get _off _me!" he snapped, shoving the other boy off of him. Weasley had conveniently dropped about fifty pieces of parchment all the way down the stairs and all over the both of them as well. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Fred and George," Weasley said in a rush, scrambling to his feet and pushing his glasses up his nose. He didn't look at Oliver but instead set about to collect all of the scrolls. "They set off a Dungbomb."

"When-? I saw them _five minutes _ago at Quidditch practice!" Oliver said incredulously, pushing himself to his feet.

Weasley shrugged, still stacking parchment. "Well..." Oliver said, walking by and very helpful grabbing the whole stack and tossing it three stories down over the staircase railing as Weasley pulled his wand on him, "Later, Weasley."

"You're a _terrible _little git, you know that?" Weasley growled, rushing over and making a saddened face at the parchment raining fifty feet below. "Fuck you, Wood."

Oliver pretended to look offended. "It's been fun, but I gotta go," he said with a mock salute.

He'd gotten about three feet when he felt a spell hit him. He'd barely had time to groan in exasperation when he realized it was Petrificus Totalus- and then he was falling flat onto his face.

He could vaguely feel Weasley grabbing his foot and dragging him behind a statue- this particular spell made everything feel fuzzier than normal. Oliver tried his hardest to move and possibly punch Weasley in the face, but Weasley just glared at him and left him out of sight of any potential rescuers.

Oliver was going to _kill _him.

* * *

Fourth Year, November 17th

Percy was _not _allowed to be in love with someone so utterly idiotic. It was impossible.

All he could think while he was gathering his papers was how dramatic he'd probably been. He was 14- what did he know about love?

Yeah, okay, so maybe he thought Wood was hot. That was allowed, right? He thought Georgia Farley in sixth year was pretty, but he didn't love _her. _So there was no reason for him to love Wood, especially since Percy hated him and he hated Percy.

Right. So he could carry on hexing him and taunting him and laughing at every stupid thing he did- without the additional worry of this whole 'loving' thing.

Right?

* * *

Fourth Year, November 17th

Oliver could hear footsteps coming down the stairs- which wasn't odd. It had happened five times already, within the last hour he'd been lying here. Even Weasley had come by at one point, kicked his leg triumphantly with an odd smirk on his face, and promptly left.

"What-? Oliver?" asked the voice that presumably belonged to the footsteps.

It was Mike, who rushed to perform the countercurse and helped Oliver up. Oliver could see that he was struggling not to laugh and glared at him. "I've half a mind to hex someone, so don't tempt me, Quentin."

"I'm positively shaking," Mike deadpanned. "Come one, Mr. I'm Going To Be An Idiot And Hate Weasley For No Reason," Mike laughed, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him up the staircase. "Why're you still wearing your Quidditch robes?" he asked as Oliver protested against the insinuation that he hated Weasley for no reason.

"Laziness," Oliver sighed. "And also I just didn't want to take them off," he confessed.

"Oliver Wood? Liking Quidditch? What a _surprise," _Mike said sarcastically as they reached the Fat Lady. "Nicolas Flamel," he said as the password, and the portrait hole swung open. "Why is it empty?" Mike asked, looking around.

There was a faint whiff of poop in the air. "Oh, Fred and George set off a Dungbomb," Oliver said absent-mindedly, throwing himself into a chair by the cold fireplace.

"You ever think it's odd?" Mike asked, sitting down next to him. "You think his family are all great, but you hate Weasley."

"Mate, if I thought about Weasley any more than was absolutely necessary, I think my brain would explode," Oliver laughed.

Mike laughed as well, and Oliver kind of realized that they were really alone in the common room' that Mike was sitting only a few inches from him, and that it would be very easy to lean over and press his lips to Mike's.

_Shut up, brain, _he told himself, casting about for another topic. "Are you sure you're never getting on a broomstick?"

Mike shuddered. "Those things look terrifying," he said. "Never. Ever. Ever."

Oliver laughed. "How can you be my best friend and not ride on a broomstick?"

Mike wrinkled his nose. "I dunno, mate, do I want to be best friends with you? You stink and you're sweaty and-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Oliver cut him off, balling up a Quidditch-gloved fist in mock-anger. Mike jumped up and gulped very exaggeratedly.

"I'm going to go do my homework," he said hurriedly, rushing for the stairs as Oliver chuckled. He realized only as Mike's footsteps echoed from the stairs that he really was going upstairs- and Oliver was left watching his golden hair catch the light of the sun like a ray of sunlight itself.

* * *

Fourth Year, November 24th

"WOOD!"

Oliver dived left instinctively and caught the flying Charms textbook as Charlie ran over, grinning madly. _"Nice, _Oliver- you're getting better at this!" he said excitedly.

Oliver nodded gratefully from where he'd collapsed in a heap, the textbook dangling off one hand. "Thanks," he said, trying to sit up and spilling all of his things everywhere. He groaned and handed Charlie the textbook as the clock ticked twelve- they were late for lunch.

Charlie helped him gather his things as he peeled himself off the ground and stood, rubbing his arms where he'd fallen. "This whole 'what won't Wood catch' thing is going very well, eh?"

Oliver grunted in response, accepting his bag from Charlie. His stomach was growling louder than thunder- Professor McGonagall had insisted on holding them later after class and lecturing them on behavior and paying attention.

Oliver hadn't really noticed- he'd been asleep.

They walked down to the Great Hall, the hallways mostly empty as everyone ate.

Charlie led the way inside- and froze.

"What?" Oliver asked, going around Charlie- who he was realizing he was _taller _than- and beginning to laugh. "Who did _this?"_

"Can't you guess?" Charlie asked, looking as though he couldn't decide whether to laugh or scold his twin brothers, who were bowing exaggeratedly in the center of the hall. Everyone else was laughing, admiring their new appearances.

Because everyone's hair was now bright, Weasley red.

Oliver walked in, laughing even harder as his friends waved him over and tried to force him to eat the food. "I'm guessing it's poisoned with Weasley hair?" he asked.

Adrian clapped him on the back. "I guess eating chicken makes you part of the family!"

Even _Dumbledore _had red hair- although, of course, McGonagall maintained her natural color. "How are they not getting landed with detention?" Oliver asked, taking a bite of his eggs. The red hair was inevitable- and he was _starving. _

Sam shrugged. "Dumbledore likes them," she said.

Weasley- _Percy _Weasley, of course- wandered over. The entire hall was in slight chaos- people were walking between tables and laughing at each other and experimenting with the food. "Ugh, I thought it was odd seeing Flitwick as a Weasley, but you're even weirder," he said childishly, turning up his nose. Oliver raised an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair- it didn't feel any different.

"You really can't come up with anything smarter?" Oliver taunted. "We need to tell Snape to give you lessons in insulting."

"And _that _was your definition of smart?" Weasley asked, raising an eyebrow. That paired with his glasses made him look like a haughty librarian. "I mean, it's what I'd expect from a _Valencia," _he said, leaning closer and whispering.

Oliver had his wand out before he'd even decided to hex him. He _knew _Weasley hated all the cheesy nicknames, but 'darling' wasn't any kind of defense against _that _monstrosity of a middle name. He whispered a hex he'd found in a Restricted Section book from the library.

Weasley jumped back, looking down at himself and around suspiciously. "What'd you do, Wood?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow as well. "Nothing at _all." _

Weasley seemed a little worried at his smug expression, but walked away anyhow, leaving the entire hall to start laughing at how his skin was turning purple.

* * *

Fourth Year, December 15th

"WHAT THE HELL, WOOD?!"

"I was bored," Wood called over his shoulder, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. Percy ran faster, his heart pounding as he turned the corner and pointed his wand at the asshole.

"I swear to _Merlin _you're DEAD!" Percy screamed as they hurtled into the Entrance Hall, Wood purposefully heading for the Great Hall, where all the teachers were, to avoid being hexed.

"Not if I can help it!"

Percy rolled his eyes. "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

He didn't get Wood, but he got that stupid hat of his, making Wood freeze. "Give it _back, _Weasley!"

Percy grinned smugly, letting it drift ten, twenty, thirty feet into the air until it was nudging against the rafters at the top of the hall. Wood stormed over until they were much too close for Percy's taste and poked a finger in his chest.

"Hey, you're the one who put an egg in my shoes this morning!" Percy protested, letting the hat levitate farther and farther away.

Wood grabbed his wand and tried unsuccessfully to wrench it out of his hands, making Percy jump back. "Don't be an ass, Weasley-"

"Same to you, _Valencia." _

Wood looked mildly amused for a moment. "Are you sure you're not so obsessed with middle names because yours is terrible?"

"Mine is perfectly normal," Percy scoffed.

"Mine's _Bartholomew, _you can't get anywhere further from Valencia than that, can you?" Wood threw his hands up into the air, his brown hair lit dusky red by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. His eyes glittered as he opened his mouth to continue.

Percy cut him off, not meeting his gaze even as he spoke sarcastically. "They've got the same 'e' sound, right-"

As Wood tried to _tackle _him, Adrian stomped over and pushed them apart. Percy shoved him off as Wood did the same. "All right, I'm staging an intervention. This has gone _way too far, _you morons- make up and move on with your lives already!"

Percy let the hat fall to the ground and smirked as Wood scrambled to pick it up. "Happy?" he asked Adrian, who narrowed his eyes.

"You'll be hexing each other by tomorrow," he pointed out.

"And?" Wood asked innocently.

"It's exhausting!"

_"He's _exhausting, Adrian," Wood complained like a child.

Percy threw his hands up in the air. "You started it with your whole Quidditch is better than classes thing!"

"And he was right- but that was also two weeks ago!" Adrian said in exasperation.

"You're biased," Percy said impatiently. "Accept it, Adrian- Wood's just too idiotic for me to ever stop fighting him," he pointed out.

Adrian grabbed Wood by the collar and dragged him away as Wood managed a grin, muttering something about how stupid the two of them were.

Percy shook his head as he stuck his wand back into his pocket, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Hey, Wood!" he called after them, a sudden urge propelling him forward.

Wood looked wary as he shook off Adrian and turned to face Percy. "Wha-"

And Percy punched him in the face.

Not hard, not really, but enough to send Wood reeling and to make Percy burst out laughing. "Nothing," he said, turning on his heel to get far enough from Wood that when he realized what had happened, he'd have to work to catch up.

That truly settled it- Percy must have been drunk or something the day he'd decided he was _in love with Wood. _The universe would never let that happen, of course.

* * *

Fourth Year, December 31st

"You know," Sam said as the clock's hand ticked closer and closer to midnight. "We're old now."

Adrian laughed. "You mean because it'll be 1990?"

_"Yes," _Sam said. "It'll have been two decades since we were born!"

Mike rolled his eyes as he flopped down onto the couch next to the lot of them. Oliver popped open a soda and laughed with him. "We're fourteen, Sam- I wouldn't worry."

"No, but really! What about when it's 2090?"

"Then we'll be dead," Adrian announced. "So don't worry about it."

Sam smacked him on the arm- they were all at Mike's place again, just for the night. His parents were at some New Year's party in town for the evening, so they had the whole huge place to themselves, and they'd already chased each other around the length of it. Now, they were sitting in Mike's enormous living room, eating far too much food and playing dumb party games until the clock hit midnight- which was in about ten minutes.

"On a less morbid note, we're halfway through Hogwarts, mate," Mike said, sounding as though he'd just realized this.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of dread fill him as he thought of it. "You're not wrong," he admitted. "Wow, I _do _feel old now, Sam," he said lightly, covering up his initial reaction.

"What'll we do when we're done, though? With Hogwarts?" Sam said thoughtfully. Adrian's gaze flicked up to her face- he looked as though he was thinking of something important.

"Well," he said, not looking away from her face. "I guess we'll get married and stuff, you know."

Mike and Oliver exchanged grins, and Oliver had to bite his lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

_Sweet Merlin, Adrian... _

Sam was utterly oblivious. "Yeah, but beyond that. I think I'd like to be a Healer," she said.

Mike considered, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips as he shot Adrian a very conspiratorial look. Adrian flushed and looked away from Sam. "Hmm... I wouldn't hate being a Professor, actually."

"I could see that. Professor Quentin, what's the homework? Professor Quentin, we love you!" Oliver said. "Merlin, I sound like Weasley," he laughed, easily picturing his rat-like face and those colossal book forts he made to study.

"I think you should teach Potions. Get rid of greasy old Snape," Adrian suggested.

"Ollie's obviously going to play for England," Mike said, flashing him a smile. Oliver's heart skipped a beat, and he turned quickly to Adrian.

"What about you?" Oliver asked.

Adrian tilted his head, thinking. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he shook his head to move it. "Probably something in the Ministry. Department of International Magical Cooperation or something, right? You travel a lot with them."

The clock chimed five minutes to midnight.

Mike narrowed his eyes at it as Adrian started talking to Sam about something. "I wanna show you something," he said to Oliver. He stood up, tilting his head invitingly.

"Don't be too long- you'll miss the New Year!" Adrian called after them as they started walking out of the living room. Oliver didn't meet Mike's eyes as they went up the stairs.

"What're you showing me?"

"Just come look," Mike said, grinning. He led Oliver up two more flights until he was sure they'd nearly reached the roof itself.

Mike finally stopped at the end of the hall on the third floor, pulling down a trapdoor and a ladder from the ceiling. "So we _are _going up to the roof," Oliver said, tilting his head in confusion and following Mike up the ladder.

It was chilly when they got outside- Oliver shivered in his sweater, but he went to sit next to Mike, legs dangling off the edge. He grinned- it was almost the same feeling as Quidditch, sometimes: the same quiet, the peace of being all alone up here in his own world. "I think the stars up here are really nice," Mike said almost sheepishly.

Oliver looked up at them and smiled softly. "They really are." You could see so much of the sky here, unlike the polluted cities.

They both jumped as they heard Sam and Adrian counting below- along with distant yells from other houses. "Ten, nine, eight-"

"Seven, six, five," Oliver began with them, looking at Mike and biting his lip a little nervously.

"Four, three, two, one-"

And then Oliver leaned over and kissed him.

* * *

Fourth Year, January 8th

Percy jolted awake, picking up his head and groaning at the crick in his neck. His hair was getting long- soft red curls hung in his eyes as he glanced around woozily, stretching and standing up, nearly falling over as he did so. He'd fallen asleep in the common room, evidently, and it was completely empty with something like _sunlight _streaming in through the windows.

Percy stopped mid-heart-attack as he realized there was still one more day until he had to worry about classes.

He picked up the book he'd been reading- _A Brief History of Magical Ministers _that wasn't very brief at all- and dragged himself upstairs, the creak of every stair echoing in the silence. He'd come back early, and for the next few hours, at least, he'd have Gryffindor tower to himself.

His fingers were itching for a quill already, but he didn't have anything to write, after all. No essays, nothing due, no research. He supposed, he thought as he dropped his book on the bed, that he could take notes on the book- but then he'd _really _be at a new low.

Percy took a fresh roll of parchment anyways, and sat at the only table in their dormitory, right under the little window that opened out to the Quidditch pitch and the Forbidden Forest. He dug through his bag until he found his best quill, and tapped it uselessly against the parchment, squinting out through the window to the empty field.

He'd thought about researching something, of course, perhaps in the Ministry, and then writing something about it. Or an autobiography. He could picture it already, a smart picture of him on the front, a list of accolades on the back. But that was a Muggle sort of thing- wizards only really had textbooks, cookbooks, or fiction. Besides, it was _people _Percy liked writing about the most. Important people who'd invented spells, people who'd fought in wars. His essays for History of Magic were his favorite- not that Binns read those, of course (it was common knowledge he just measured them). But there wasn't an assignment...

Percy found himself writing about the book after all- there was a certain Florence Hildebrand from the 1600s who'd done quite a lot of insane things, including inventing a spell to cause your wand to began speaking that had been banned within days of its creation.

He didn't last ten minutes before crumpling up the paper and tossing it in the bin- not only was he out of ink, but he was boring himself to death. Voices drifted up from the common room, and Percy abandoned the writing endeavor, sighing and opening his book on _Ministers _again.

* * *

Fourth Year, May 27th

Oliver mounted his broom and kicked off, shooting into the air quite a bit faster than he usually did. But he hadn't been able to wait- they'd come out of the castle for Herbology and the moment Oliver had felt that warm, almost summery air that was unheard of in January, he'd hardly been able to contain himself.

Charlie was still calling constant Quidditch practices, of course- the Cup was _going _to be theirs this year- but there was something in just flying on his own that Oliver realized he'd started to miss.

Now, he zoomed over the Quidditch pitch, shivering a little in the colder air up here but welcoming it, welcoming the feeling of flying and being alive and all alone yet surrounded by everything at the same time after being cooped up in the castle after Christmas break.

Up here, he was complete. Up here, the world was his and nothing could stop him-

"WOOD!"

Oliver made a sound resembling a dragon roar as he sat up, blinking sleep out of his eyes. _"What?" _he snapped, glowering as he yanked back the hangings around his bed. Harsh sunlight streamed in through the diamond-patterned windows, doing nothing to deter the undercurrent of cold running through the entire castle.

"It's past noon, mate," Adrian laughed, looking up from where he'd evidently been crouched over an essay on his bed. "Don't you have Quidditch practice?"

"No," Oliver said irritably, flopping back down on the bed. It was Sunday, he _never _had practice on Sundays. "What _was _that, Weasley? That's a terrible way to wake someone up!" Weasley was sitting on the ground, sorting through his trunk.

"I just remembered you existed- I forgot what with you hiding out like a squirrel in that bed- and I felt like I should do you the courtesy-"

"You can do me the courtesy of _shutting your bloody mouth-"_

"I am _not _listening to this on Saturday morning!" Mike piped up, and Oliver jumped- both from hearing Mike speak when he hadn't known he was in the room and from the startling realization that it was Saturday, _and he had Quidditch practice-_

_"Shit!"_ Oliver practically screeched, throwing himself out of bed and yanking his trunk open, trying to find his gloves. It was bitterly cold in the room, but he ignored that as he found them, practically shoving them onto his hands. He hadn't changed after last night's practice, so he was still wearing clothes that could go under Quidditch robes, thankfully. "Why," he ground out through gritted teeth as he jumped around, tugging on his shoes, "Didn't anyone tell me that it was fucking _Saturday?!"_

Weasley raised an amused eyebrow at Oliver, and Oliver glared at him as if to say _I know I look funny, so do you, mate. _"Are you glad I woke you up _now?"_

"I," Oliver said with an enormous effort, pulling on his second boot and grabbing someone's coat off the ground in his hurry- it was dark blue, probably his- and giving Weasley a very nasty look, "Don't have time for-" he gestured helplessly _"-you _right now."

He practically catapulted himself out the door and down the stairs, nearly knocking over a first year as he raced for the common room door, tearing through it and down the halls, not particularly envying anyone who got in his way.

Oliver raced across the grounds, fully awake now that the wind was whipping his face and the ground hard beneath his feet as he ran. "Charlie!" he said, stumbling onto the pitch and resisting the urge to groan at another conditioning day.

"Where have you _been?" _Charlie roared from about fifty feet away. Oliver winced, running a hand through his hair.

"I overslept- forgot it was Saturday," Oliver said sheepishly.

"Hurry _up, _then!" Charlie said, his face red with anger that looked like it was directed at more than Oliver. "Come on!" he screamed at Fred and George whipping the Bludgers around.

Oliver dashed into the changing rooms, pulled on his robes, and ran out onto the pitch, beginning his laps with a growing sense of exhaustion. The hot May sun was beating down on him, and the combined effect of the remaining tiredness from the previous night and the rapid drain of energy that came with running was weighing on him in a way most Quidditch practices didn't.

They threw things at him, as usual- "What won't Wood catch" was the team's favorite game- and he caught them, and they practiced, and somewhere in the middle of the running, Oliver found a rhythm.

"All right," Charlie said, beckoning them over nearly an hour later. Angelina looked as though she was going to collapse, but she was holding her head high, a defiant look in her eyes, and Oliver could tell that one day she'd be Captain of this team. "We're almost there," Charlie sighed. "We just need the last push before the Cup. The Chasers need to work on their passing, the Beaters on their strength, the Keeper on _timing," _Charlie said very pointedly, and Oliver flinched. "And I need to work on not overworking you guys," he admitted. "No more practices until next weekend," he said, and even _Oliver _was glad for once.

The rest of the team cheered- weakly, admittedly, as they were too exhausted for enthusiasm. "We're doing great," Charlie said, and, like that, practice was over.

* * *

Fourth Year, June 16th

_Bloody hell, _Percy thought incredulously, _Is he crying?_

He was. Oliver Wood was legitimately, actually crying.

And the rest of the Gryffindor common room was _absolutely losing their minds _as Fred and George literally poured streams of butterbeer down onto the heads of everyone on the Quidditch team as music loud enough to shake the floor played.

All four houses had shown up, just for the sake of partying (only some of them were celebrating Gryffindor's latest Quidditch Cup win)- even Slytherin, ever against Gryffindor. "PERCE!" Anthony screamed from across the room, a Gryffindor lion painted on his cheek. "WE WON!"

Percy nodded, laughing a little hysterically- he was trying to _study, _dammit, but he was the only person in the common room using a table with actual books on it.

Wood wandered over, looking a little lost, still practically sobbing. Charlie was over in the corner, absolutely inconsolable, a mound of butterbeer dripping off his hair. "You, uh, you good, Wood?"

Wood just looked at him. "We won," he stuttered.

Percy couldn't help it- he burst out laughing. "Sweet _Merlin, _Wood, this is priceless," he said, a crying Oliver Wood- who was wearing Quidditch robes that Percy was _not _looking at, thank you very much- momentarily distracting him from studies. "I'm glad I came down here at all."

"Shut up!" Wood said without much conviction. "Are you bloody studying? I'm going to have to take that as a personal insult that you're reading Binns's textbook during our Quidditch celebration-"

Percy rolled his eyes, yawning. "Yes, Wood, because everything's about _you, _of course-"

"OLIVER!"

Wood whirled and caught something George had thrown at him- a bottle of butterbeer (or firewhiskey, but if it _was _firewhiskey then _Merlin _was Percy going to have a talk with his brothers) that Wood downed in one go while about fifty people chanted "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

"What won't Wood catch?" Alicia Spinnet piped up, and the Quidditch team laughed- probably an inside joke.

Over the next few hours, Percy returned to studying, slowly getting accustomed to the noise. "Oliver!"

"Wood!"

"Hey, catch this!"

Everyone was getting really into it- at least Wood had stopped bloody crying, however, and was catching all of the random inanimate objects thrown at him.

"Oi! Whose cat is this?"

Percy looked up and cocked an eyebrow- Wood was, indeed, cradling someone's cat. He glanced down at his textbook and up at Wood- oh, what the hell? Percy drew out his wand and whispered a spell he'd found in the glossary of his Charms textbook back in second year.

"Pigeons in the ocean!" Wood yelled, then pulled a face as people looked at him, confused. "Candy and broomsticks?" He said it like a question, and Percy stifled a laugh. "Spells under the FUCK?!" Some first-year jumped at the swear word- if there was one thing the spell couldn't censor, it was that. It was simple, really, it just made the victim spout random nonsense when they tried to speak. "WEASEL!"

Percy was doubled over laughing as Wood turned to him, face purpling as butterbeer dripped out of his soggy hair. He ducked away as Wood dived for him, practically wheezing as Wood crashed into the next table. "You good, mate?"

"MUGGLE PENCIL SHIT!" Wood screamed, plunging his hand into his pocket before seeming to realize he was wearing Quidditch robes and didn't have his wand.

Charlie walked by, shooting the counter-curse at Wood. He shook his head in superiority as Wood tried out his vocal chords. "Come on, Perce, I didn't think _you'd _be so immature," he said with mock offense.

Percy shot Wood an amused glance- he was still making sure his voice was working. "It's Wood. All bets are off."

"Hmm..." Charlie said, and Percy furrowed his brows, starting to shuffle away when Charlie grabbed him around the waist.

"CHARLIE! Wha- you- let me _GO!" _he managed as Charlie drew him back as if to throw him and Percy's eyes widened as the common room became a blur for a moment as the voices around him crescendoed and Charlie screamed Wood's name.

Percy slammed into Wood as everyone screamed and more butterbeer flew into the air. "Ew," Wood said, wrinkling his nose at Percy, who admittedly was having a bit of an existential crisis being held bridal-style _in Wood's arms- _

And then Wood dropped him unceremoniously into the table with the food on it.

Percy's next thought was: _Broccoli?_

And then he was crawling out of a mound of it, covered in butterbeer as a mix of pumpkin juice and ice cream soaked his robes. _Everyone _was bloody laughing- Fred and George were taking shots of butterbeer, Charlie was clapping a smirking Wood on the back- and Percy wiped juice out of his eyes, feeling himself go completely red as he screamed _"WOOD!"_

* * *

Fourth Year, June 20th

"Hey, Ollie."

"Hey, Mike."

And then they were kissing.

That was how a lot of interactions had started going when they were alone. Oliver could feel himself melting into Mike, his arms coming up to encircle the other boy as Mike pressed him against the wall of their dormitory.

_Studying, _he thought vaguely, remembering his measly pile of notes. Mike broke away, his cheeks flushed, and Oliver grinned. "How was your day?"

"Boring without you," Mike responded breathlessly, and their lips met again.

Mike was... easy. Simple to be with. It was natural talking to him, effortless being alone with him. They talked more, now, and about deeper things. Oliver hadn't told him about his father yet, but he'd been debating whether it was time to.

And the kissing, Oliver had to admit, was pretty dang good.

"We should be studying," Mike said when they pulled apart again, and Oliver chuckled at how his thoughts mirrored Oliver's.

"I'm sure it can wait," Oliver said, picturing Weasley and his waiting book fort and his cool anger ever since the night of the Quidditch celebration and trying not to cringe.

"They're bloody tomorrow, Ollie," Mike said, resting his chin on Oliver's shoulder, his skin cool and comforting against his.

Oliver's heart skipped a beat. "It's fine." It was hardly ten in the morning- he had all day. But it was hard to imagine all summer without Mike, and for right now he didn't want to worry about anything.

"You sure?"

"Mike," Oliver said eloquently, gripping the other boy's neck and making him look up, "Shut up." And he crashed their lips together, Mike grinning against his mouth.

When they pulled apart, Mike put their foreheads together, eyes closed as Oliver watched him, their breaths mingling. "Oliver," Mike said, and Oliver's heart jumped again and his stomach twisted at the emotion in Mike's voice.

Time seemed to freeze as Mike opened his eyes, coming as close to Oliver as he could without kissing him. "Oliver," he said again, his voice ragged and sweet. Oliver swallowed, looking away from his steady gaze. "Ollie, I-"

"You know what?" Oliver said, forcing a laugh. "I really _should _be studying."

Mike jerked back, his grip on Oliver's shoulders loosening as his face dropped, and Oliver's stomach twisted tighter. "Yeah," he said, and Oliver pretended he couldn't see Mike's disappointment. "Of course."

Oliver gave him a half-hearted grin as he shouldered his bag, hurrying out and not quite knowing why.

He went down the stairs as if in a daze, hardly glancing at Adrian when he gave Oliver a lazy wave, looking up from his open Charms textbook. Sam was next to him, leaning against his shoulder and squinting over a pile of notes about a foot tall.

Oliver found his feet carrying him to the library, the halls of Hogwarts empty and silent as everyone studied in their respective dormitories and common rooms.

He didn't want to think about what had just happened, didn't want to analyze it, didn't want to try to make sense of all the stupid things he was prone to doing.

If anything could distract him, it was Weasley.

He found said Weasley looking so hard at a Potions textbook that he seemed constipated, and Oliver laughed as he ducked into the book fort, looking around at the now familiar space. "Need to take a shit, Weasley?"

"Get out," Weasley said, not looking up from his book.

Oliver sat down, starting to take his textbooks out of his bag. "Hey, where are the marshmallows?"

"I said, _get out," _Weasley responded.

_"You _hexed _me, _Weasley," Oliver said.

"I'm not helping you study," Weasley said with vehemence, hazel eyes glittering behind his frames as he looked up, glaring.

Oliver pouted dramatically, not quite sure what he was doing. "Aw, come on, Weasley."

Weasley gave him a _hell, no _sort of look, shaking his head. "I don't _associate _with rats, thanks."

"Of all the weasel jokes I could make-"

_"This _is why I refuse to help you!"

"You know you love me, Weasley," Oliver said with a wink. "I think I've been over Potions enough," he said more seriously. "Just need Transfiguration and Herbology, mostly-"

"Wood," Weasley said, almost pleading. "No."

Oliver tilted his head, considering. "Yeah, I'm staying."

And he did.

And Weasley _did _finally end up helping him, with quite a lot of long-suffering sighs and exasperated glances and unnecessary criticism along the way.

When Oliver left that night, he turned back halfway out of the fort. "Weasley?"

He looked up over his glasses, looking so much like Madam Pince with his pinched glare that Oliver stifled a laugh.

"Bring marshmallows next year."

* * *

Fourth Year, August 2nd

"Oliver! You've got an owl!"

Oliver scrambled out of his room, dragging down the window before he left and feeling his ears practically ring at the loss of all the sounds of London outside- both unfamiliar yet comforting after their move to the city. His house was quiet without the din, almost painfully so.

"Slow down," his mum said, laughing softly as Oliver vaulted over their two-person dining table and made a dive for the window, practically manhandling the poor owl as he unfurled his letter.

"YES!" his yell probably deafened someone in the flat below them, but Oliver didn't give a damn because-

"You're Quidditch Captain?" his mum asked knowingly, wiping her hands with a cloth as Oliver gaped at the letter.

"YES!" he screamed again, pumping his fist in the air.

And now the house was filled with all the sounds of his dreams coming true as something else squawked through the window- and Oliver found himself catching a literal pigeon.

_What won't Wood catch? _he thought hysterically as he tossed it back out the window, his mother laughing in the background.

* * *

Fourth Year, August 2nd

"Perce? I think you've got a letter-"

Percy let out some inhuman noise as he dove about ten feet across the room, sunlight streaming in through the open window as Ginny giggled at his reaction. "Give it here!"

He tore it open with shaking fingers, dropping it after reading the first line.

"Let me guess-"

"-you made Prefect?"

Fred and George snuck up behind him, picking up the letter and reading it over. "Mum? Percy's in trouble!" Fred called into the kitchen, and Percy snatched the letter, grinning wide enough that his face felt like it would split in two.

Charlie clapped him on the back, striding in with a piece of toast sticking out of his mouth. "Good job, Perce."

_Oh, _hell, _yes._

* * *

**So the 'What won't Wood catch' thing is based off of another pin I saw on Pinterest- thanks to whoever posted it lol. And I found it kind of funny that I ended up writing the New Year's scene on New Year's, actually. **

**I hope you liked the chapter! The real story in their fifth year begins after this- and every single crazy thing I think of is going to happen then- yay! I'm sorry if some of the parts in the middle were boring- I know there was a lot more internal thinking than funny dialogue for some of it. I think I'm realizing they need to have more personality than "I hate Weasley" and "I hate Wood", though, so I'm trying to give them more depth.**

**I'm not sure where I'm going with this whole 'Percy likes writing' thing, but I think I have a few ideas :)**

**Also, I'm sorry I cut the last Quidditch game, but this chapter was long enough without it lol.**

**I have no idea when the next chapter will be up... hopefully within the next few weeks? I forgot how fun this fanfic is to write lol so probably soon.**

**Pretty please review!**

**See ya next time!**

**-Cupcakes Can Write Too**


	6. The One Where Something Went Wrong

**Here's the latest chapter! I think I'm finally getting back into writing this :)**

** Thank you to 'Your Resident Cat Lover' for reviewing- I hope this chapter answered some of your questions!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Fifth Year, August 31st

There was screaming from downstairs and a distant bang that Percy rolled his eyes at as he crouched over a roll of parchment, scribbling with his quill. He wasn't quite sure what he was writing, but it was better than sitting down there and listening to his mum yell at the twins.

_"...and then the sun set over the hills..."_

He'd taken to writing 'short stories' sometimes, or just describing things around him. Living in the Burrow meant he had no shortage of inspiration in that regard, so a lot of the scrolls neatly lined up on a shelf next to his bed were about the crazy hi-jinks of cleverly renamed "Freddie and Gregory" or "Robert". It wasn't good, any of it, and once he'd re-read one of them and promptly threw it in the bin.

But it was good. It kept him in practice of writing, gave him something to do in the long summer days, and he could swear as frequently as he liked about whomever he was mad at.

"PERCY!"

Percy groaned, setting down the quill and rolling up the parchment, hoping it wouldn't smudge, and slamming it into the drawer beneath his desk as the door to his room flew open. "What?" he snapped at Ron standing in the doorway.

"What _did _you feed Scabbers all those years?"

Percy threw his hands up in the air. "I don't know? Ask Mum!" He'd never bothered too much with Scabbers, honestly, just shoved him some food every now and then and shooed him away from his homework.

"Where's my broomstick?" echoed up the stairs.

"Hey, that's not your marmalade-" someone yelled.

"Shut the door, will you?" Percy called after Ron as his younger brother rolled his eyes and sprinted off down the stairs.

Percy slammed it very obnoxiously, annoyed he'd had to get up to do so. He rubbed his forehead dramatically, squinting out the window and watching his siblings sprint out into the field for a final Quidditch match before the holidays were over.

Personally, he didn't see the appeal in it. He couldn't _wait _to be back at Hogwarts.

His fingers unconsciously went to the shiny, new Prefect badge on his windowsill- he polished it everyday and apparently stared at it so much that Fred and George were planning a wedding.

"PERCY!"

Percy set down the badge, groaning again. "WHAT?"

* * *

Fifth Year, August 31st

"Hurry up, Oliver!"

"Yeah, yeah," Oliver called over his shoulder, gathering his bags in his hand and waving to the receptionist whom he'd seen far too much over the summer.

"Ready?" his mother asked, her hair pinned up neatly and her own bags slung over her shoulder.

"Yep."

She grabbed his arm, and they stepped out of the largest hotel in Paris, emerging into the middle of city, the Eiffel Tower towering in front of them. "Here we go."

And Paris's sunlit streets and smiling inhabitants blurred around them as his mother Apparated them right back into their flat in London.

Oliver stumbled, his bags dropping to the ground as he blinked, looking around. White walls, cozy brown couch, the cracks in the window from where he'd accidentally slammed a Quaffle into it- yep, this was home.

"Always takes a second, huh?"

Oliver gave his mother a half-hearted smile, nodding. He still hadn't forgiven her for declaring, three weeks ago, that they were going to France for the rest of the summer. Not only had he declined Adrian's invitation for the summer, but he'd ended up with not much to do, as his mother wouldn't let him leave the hotel alone to wander Paris, and she had always been too busy to take him out.

At least his bags were stuffed with enough macarons and croissants and French pastries to last him through all of fifth year.

"Make sure you've got all your stuff for school," his mum called after him as Oliver sprinted through their tiny living room and headed down the hall to his room.

Oh, and, of course, she'd chosen to wait until the last day of his summer holidays to finally bring them home.

Oliver quickly shoved everything from Diagon Alley into his trunk, managed to clasp it closed _somehow, _and spent the rest of the evening polishing his broomstick, sewing up his gloves, washing his Quidditch robes, walking around in his new gear to break it in-

"Oliver! Dinner's ready!"

He paused in the middle of Lap 128 of his room, looking up from the Quidditch Captain badge he'd simultaneously been polishing.

When Oliver went out into the hall, he had a moment of deja vu looking around- two years ago, he wouldn't have been able to reach the lightbulb even by jumping; now, he had to duck slightly to walk underneath it.

His mother gave him a tired but sincere smile as she set the table- for two. Oliver's brows furrowed as he watched her ladle out soup for both of them, her papers for work nowhere to be seen. "I'm taking the evening off," she responded, catching his confused look.

He shrugged- it probably wouldn't make much of a difference even if she sat and ate with him, which happened about once a year. "How'd you like Paris?" she asked brightly as Oliver sat.

He cleared his throat, stirring his soup unnecessarily. "Food was good."

"It certainly was," she grinned, and Oliver had to resist the urge to make another utterly confused face. "You brought home _far _too many pastries," she chided, still smiling.

Oliver shrugged again, eyes following the path of a carrot as it swirled in his soup.

"What about the Eiffel Tower? I wish we'd been able to have dinner up there, I've heard the restaurant's _amazing-"_

"Mum, _what _is happening?"

Her smile faded slightly, but Oliver was determined to stare her down, if not for an answer then for _something,_ something that wasn't this fake pretense that they were fine, that they'd been anything resembling fine for the last six years. "What do you mean?"

Oliver let go of his spoon with a clatter. "I mean that you're acting weird. All cheerful and everything- and you're not working. You're always working."

She only sighed. "I know, Ollie. I'm done for now, though."

He scoffed. "Yeah, Mum, but you _dragged me across the bloody continent _without a single day of warning! For no reason, honestly-"

"I know I could have Apparated home," she said, frowning now, "But it's a bit far for me to do it every night, don't you think?"

"You could have left me alone!" Oliver exclaimed. "Or let me go to Adrian's!"

"I could _not _have left you alone," she said sternly, and Oliver felt a muscle twitch in his clenched jaw. "And I took you to Paris with me because I- I want us to spend more time together. I want us to be a _family, _Oliver, not two people who happen to live in the same place-"

Oliver, who had been frozen with shock until then, let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, and you choose _now _to start? As if we shouldn't have been a family the last fifteen _fucking _years-"

"Oliver Bartholomew Wood, mind _your tongue." _

He threw his hands into the air, letting out a groan. "That doesn't change the fact that what I said is _true, _Mum!"

"And you haven't made it any easier for me, Oliver!" his mum snapped. "You don't write back to me at Hogwarts-"

"Because you _don't write to me at all!"_

"I used to," she said helplessly.

"And you stopped! So I did too, Mum. I don't need a family. I've managed long enough without one," Oliver said with finality, the lie tasting sour in his mouth. He'd managed, all right, if you could call crying himself to sleep whenever he really thought about his parents 'managing'.

"But we both have to try, Oliver. I don't want to talk about the past-"

"You're _stuck _in the past, Mum! You still haven't forgotten about Dad, I know you haven't-"

"Oliver," his mother cut in. "This is not about your father-"

"Yes! Yes, it is! He left, Mum. He's gone. And it's just the two of us now. It's been the two of us for a long damn time," Oliver said, almost pleadingly. "And you never got over it."

"Of course I have," his mother said, wringing her hands.

"Don't." Oliver shook his head. "You," he sighed. "We don't need to do this. We don't need to pretend we need each other-"

"Oliver!"

"-and I'll go to Hogwarts tomorrow _on my own _and be fine, Mum. Just like you'll be fine alone, too."

"Sit _down, _Oliver," his mother said, standing up as well when he pushed back his chair, standing.

"I'm _done, _Mum," he said, shaking his head and trying to clear the lump in his throat. "We were fine before you decided we needed to go to France to fix something that's already gone."

And he left, eyes prickling, leaving his mother staring sadly after him.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 1st

When Oliver woke up that morning, his first thought was something like _It's sunny._

Then came _Today's September 1st. _

Next, his memories flooded back to him and a long string of muttered curse words followed as he hauled himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes and hurrying to get dressed as he glanced at the clock and realized he didn't have much time before they left.

When he dragged himself and his trunk out to the sitting room, his stomach twisting at the thought of facing his mother, he found the house empty and quiet.

Frowning, Oliver set down the trunk, grunting, and walked around, peering around corners as if expecting to find his mum hiding behind a teapot, ready to yell "Surprise" or something. He found nothing except for a note on the dining room table.

_Left early for work. The neighbors are taking you to King's Cross._

_Love you xxxx_

Oliver's stomach twisted tighter as he scoffed at the letter, jaw practically dropping. _Seriously? _She was taking the easy way out. Now Oliver wouldn't have to see her until Christmas at least.

This was the problem. _Her. _Not his dad, not him.

_No wonder Dad left. _

He scolded himself immediately for letting the thought cross his mind at all.

But the note crumpled in his fist as he stalked across the room, lifting his trunk and yanking it through the front door, slamming the door on his empty house, a lump already growing in his throat.

Oliver took a deep breath, shaking out his shoulders, and knocked on the number 17 door across the hall, which smelled like old peanuts. Holding his breath, he gave Mr. Reynolds a bland smile, which the man returned, just as fake. "Hey, Oliver! Good to see you again, huh? Hold on just a second," Mr. Reynolds said, peeking his head through the door with a chuckle. "LUCY! GET DOWN HERE!"

The sound of running footsteps followed as Mr. Reynolds gave Oliver another fake smile, which Oliver returned awkwardly.

Merlin, he _hated _feeling like the little boy he'd been when they first moved here. Quiet, shy- the type of boy who bumped into Percy Weasley on the Hogwarts Express and stared at his too-small shoes the whole time. And there was something about Mr. Reynolds, who he had hardly seen a glance of since they'd had a boring dinner with them when he'd first moved in, that made him go right back to that.

A small girl slipped out the door, and Mr. Reynolds closed it, grinning at Oliver, who sighed and hefted her trunk as well. "Here we go!" the old man said, taking each of their hands as Oliver and Lucy looked in opposite directions from each other.

The world blurred, and then they were landing at Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross, witches and wizards and talk of magic bustling around them.

Oliver let out a breath, taking it in and feeling it soothe the prickling at the backs of his eyes. "Sam!" he exclaimed, setting down Lucy's trunk and waving goodbye to her and Mr. Reynolds as Sam launched herself at him, blonde hair shining in a long waterfall behind her as she threw her arms around him.

"Merlin, Ollie, you're about a foot taller," she remarked when she let go, pulling back and giving him a dazzling smile. Oliver couldn't help it- he smirked.

"Finally!" he said. "D'you think I've caught up to Adrian?"

"Speak of the devil," she said, and Oliver turned to find Adrian barreling into his side.

Groaning, Oliver shoved him off, laughing. His green eyes glittered as he grinned at Oliver. "Who was that old codger you came with?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, ignoring his stomach twisting once more into knots. "Annoying neighbor. Never mind him," he said. He grabbed Adrian's arm and pulled him closer, standing up straight. "Who's taller?" he asked Sam.

Sam rolled her eyes, and Oliver held back a laugh as Adrian practically made puppy-dog eyes at her- this was going to be an _amusing _year. "D'you know," she said, smiling wider than a child with candy, "I think it's Oliver!"

"HA!"

"Oi, shut up, mate, we all know Weasley'll have you beat by a mile-"

"Of course he _won't-"_

"Oliver!"

Oliver whirled, his face splitting into the widest grin so far this morning. "Mike!"

And then there was a blond-haired blur hugging him, and- okay. Okay, so they were hugging. Which was... obviously amazing.

But they were also in the middle of a crowded train platform with two friends they'd only just agreed to tell about their relationship, and-

And as Mike pulled away and Adrian clapped him on the back, Oliver realized he was being paranoid. Mike gave him a secret glance as Adrian looked away, and Oliver returned it, lacing their fingers together just for a moment before the rest of his friends were leaving to say goodbye to their parents as the train whistle blew.

Oliver lifted his trunk, heading for the train and ignoring Mr. Reynolds's feeble farewell.

He heaved the trunk onto the train and climbed on, finding it mostly deserted.

Oliver nearly dropped the trunk, and he whirled, catching it a moment before everything inside was crushed. Yanking it with him, he turned again- and smacked right into Weasley.

The git _was _taller than him- but Oliver refused to comment on it, instead scoffing and brushing past him, rolling his eyes.

He found an empty compartment and sat down, knowing his friends would find him.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 1st

"Harry Potter," Fred said in awe, staring after the boy as he got on the train.

Percy rolled his eyes as his mother told them to stop gawking. "Come on," he said. "We're going to be late."

Ron was lugging his trunk in the wrong direction, Ginny was crying and asking to go too, and Fred and George were trying to make her feel better by talking about toilet seats. Just a normal day in the Weasley family, of course.

"Perce!"

He turned and grinned at Anthony, who was already wearing his robes, too. "I see you got Prefect," Anthony said proudly.

Maybe Percy had been standing a little taller so everyone could see his badge- there wasn't any harm in that, right? "I'll have to come sit with you later," Percy said.

"Oh, that's fine- I've got to finish my book, anyhow," Anthony waved him off.

Percy had wondered why they were friends, sometimes- probably because they were both the only ones in their year who cared about studies.

"Did you hear? Harry Potter's at Hogwarts this year!" Anthony was saying.

Percy nodded. "We met him, actually."

"What was he like, mate?"

"Normal, I guess. Quiet, mostly."

Anthony shook his head as if this was awe-inspiring information. "Harry Potter- _normal?" _

The train's whistle blew, and Percy kissed his mum on the cheek, grabbing his trunk and dragging it onto the train. "See you," he waved to Anthony, robes billowing dramatically as he got onto the train. It was cool inside, and it smelled like chocolate- probably a side effect of all the Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs kids had been eating on here for ages.

He froze as he saw Wood climbing onto the train a few yards down from another entrance, lugging an enormous trunk with him. A thousand witty insults were at the tip of his tongue, but he found himself unable to speak as he watched Wood walk his way, not seeing him as he fumbled with his trunk.

Percy walked silently forward, hoping to just go around him without any fuss, but then Wood turned suddenly and they slammed into each other, Percy stumbling slightly.

Time froze for a moment as Percy took in how Wood was within an inch of his height- although Percy _was _still taller- and how his brown hair had gotten silky sometime in the last few years and Percy hadn't noticed and how he looked as tan as ever and how his dark blue eyes pierced Percy's like oceans-

Wood looked... disappointed, somehow, his expression that single instant before they slammed into each other more open than it had ever been with Percy. His Muggle clothes looked ruffled, and his hair was a little mussed as if he hadn't brushed it properly.

That feeling washed over Percy- the odd moment of _Wait, this person actually exists in real life _that everyone always gets after seeing someone after a long time without them.

His heart skipped a beat.

And then Wood scoffed and brushed past him, and Percy was left standing there, watching him storm away, mouth open.

_Fucking shit. _

It was fine. Everything was fine. Percy told himself that over and over as he came to his senses when the train's whistle blew again, heading for the Prefect's carriage. _It's fine, it's fine, everything's fine. __You're absolutely allowed to think he's kind of good-looking, that's allowed, of course it's allowed-_

Sweet _Merlin, _he was doomed.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 1st

"I got everyone presents from France," Oliver said.

Adrian whistled as Mike craned his head, narrowing his eyes at Oliver's trunk. Oliver laughed, grateful already that he was back here, with his friends, on the Hogwarts Express and ready to head back to his favorite place in the world. "I thought you looked tan, mate," Adrian said appreciatively. He raised an eyebrow. "Meet any hot French girls?"

Oliver rolled his eyes and held back a grin as Mike looked reproachfully at Adrian. "About that," he began.

"Okay, I'm waiting for French souvenirs," Sam said, folding her hands beneath her chin and turning her face to him expectantly. Oliver jumped up onto the seat, rooting around in his trunk as the train whistled again.

"My younger brother's starting at Hogwarts this year," Adrian said.

"I can't imagine having younger siblings," Sam said thoughtfully. "Thank Merlin Lola's older than me."

"Okay," Oliver announced. "I just got food, basically," he said, holding out three bags stuffed to the brim with macarons.

"Oliver, have I mentioned I love you?"

"No, not really," Oliver grinned, sitting down as the train jerked forward, and the familiar rhythm of movement beneath them started up as the whistle blew again, louder.

The door to the compartment slid open again- it was a relatively tall first-year with Weasley hair and a smudge of dirt on his nose. "Sorry," the boy grumbled, closing the door behind him.

"Every time I think that's the last of them, another Weasley shows up," Mike remarked.

"Anyways," Oliver started again. "Mike and I have something to tell you." They'd written to each other over the summer- it had been about the only thing he could do sitting around in a hotel the last month.

Adrian's mouth was full of macarons. "Yush?"

Mike rolled his eyes, looking at Oliver, who smirked at the flush spreading across his cheeks. "So, er-"

"What are you so nervous about?" Sam laughed.

"Oliver and I are..."

"We're together," Oliver finished.

Adrian dropped another macaron, halfway to his mouth. "So-" he swallowed, wincing. _"Together _together?"

Sam was looking back and forth at the two of them, a smile growing on her face. "Okay," she said. "I didn't really expect this, but also... wow. I'm happy for you two," she said, grinning.

She obviously had more questions, but Oliver was glad that she seemed willing to wait to ask them.

Oliver gave her a relieved smile as all of their gazes went to Adrian.

He froze as they all stared at him. "Blimey, mate. Just- _blimey." _

Sam gave him a fond grin. "He's fine with it," she translated.

"Does this mean you're snogging in our dorm, though, because-"

"We've been doing it for nine months and you haven't noticed until now, so I don't think it'll make a difference now," Oliver assured him as Sam burst into giggles.

"Nine _months? _And you didn't say anything-"

"We were nervous," Mike said, groaning and laughing.

"But, still, if you two are going to be like Frankie Smith and Keith in sixth year, then-"

"We're _not," _Mike assured him. "Can you really see either of us flipping our hair like Frankie-"

"I would," Oliver cut in, grinning wildly. He tossed his head dramatically. "We all know my hair's better than hers anyways."

Mike looked scandalized as Sam started laughing again.

And it was good. Really good. Sharing French food, laughing over everything because Oliver's friends were bloody insane, holding hands with Mike and not having to hide it.

But this was fifth year. Fifth year, already. Hogwarts wasn't forever. This friendship, as much as they all treasured it, might not be forever.

And Oliver didn't know if he'd have a real family to go back to after it.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 1st

"You know," Percy said to Anthony, "Maybe this new group of first-years isn't so bad, after all."

There were two reasons for this:

1\. He was sitting next to Hermione Granger, who was pretty much an exact replica of Percy in his first-year, and

2\. He was going to be Prefect to all of these children, after all, and it would rather help if he liked them, too.

"There is a Ravenclaw first-year behind you picking his nose," Anthony informed him, and Percy frowned.

"The _Gryffindors _are all right, then," Percy amended.

"Professor Quirrell's back, apparently," Anthony said, looking up at the table where all of the teachers were sitting.

Percy swallowed his chicken and made a face. "Didn't like him much," he admitted.

Just a few minutes later, dinner was over and Percy was bustling about importantly, ordering around the scared first-years and kind-of-sort-of flaunting the Prefect badge a bit. "Go on up to your rooms, then," he said to a group of giggling girls. They stumbled up, talking excitedly, and Percy grinned a little ruefully.

Some of the older students flopped into couches, rubbing their eyes, but near everyone headed upstairs.

Percy did as well, unpacking his robes and supplies and whatnot, but as all the other boys- including Wood, whom he'd managed to ignore in his dormitory since neither of them ever really spent any time up here anyways- started nodding off, he realized he was far too excited to sleep.

He dug up _Hogwarts, A History, _ever the classic, from his trunk and headed down to the common room, blowing out the candle by his bed to avoid bothering everyone trying to sleep.

The common room had a few stragglers left when he curled up next to the fire, cracking open the book to a random page and starting to read.

Percy looked up about a hundred pages later, rubbing his eyes a little blearily, and nearly dropped the book when he saw Wood pacing circles around the common room, throwing around a baseball. "Wood?"

"Have you only _just _noticed I'm here?" Wood asked incredulously.

"It's gone midnight, what the hell're you doing down here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Wood pointed out, his knuckles white on the baseball and his face oddly tense.

"What's the baseball for?" Percy asked, still rambling.

"Reflexes. Quidditch. I know it's a little advanced for your peanut brain-"

"We're not having this argument _again, _Wood- you need to find better things to insult me about, honestly," Percy interrupted.

Wood's mouth twisted into a smirk, his eyes flashing in the candlelight. "Like what?"

"I can't do all the work for you, can I?"

"Oh, what have you ever done for me?" Wood scoffed.

"Hmm... so don't come crying to me before OWLs, then," Percy said, raising an eyebrow and pretending to go back to his book, smug.

"I've never come _crying-"_

"No, just reeking with desperation," Percy responded smoothly.

"I don't _reek_ of anything!"

Percy looked up, narrowing his eyes. "What's this about?"

"Nothing!" Wood said, throwing his hands up into the air. "Everything. I don't need to explain why we do this whole thing constantly, do I?"

"Well, no, but the reek of desperation is actually quite strong now as well-"

"Buggering hell, Weasley, if you say _reek _one more time-"

_"Reeking," _Percy said dramatically, setting his book aside and waving his hands exaggeratedly. He sat back, enjoying watching Wood's expressions unfold on his face.

But now he was giving Percy _that _look- the Fred and George one that said he was planning nothing but mischief. "Oh, no you don't- I know that face," Percy warned.

"And _insufferable _Percy Weasley knows everything about everything, is that it?"

"Just like _moronic _Oliver Wood knows nothing about anything, right?"

"I'm not moronic-"

"And I'm not insufferable!"

"No, but _you _reek of poverty," Wood snapped.

Percy could feel his brows flick up in surprise and then down again as his eyes narrowed in anger, hating that he felt hurt for some reason. "You know, Valencia," he spat, and Wood rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw, "I honestly _don't _know why I bother." He was referring to the fact that he'd spent no small amount of time fawning over Wood's looks for a while now, and he was starting to wonder why.

"Oh, what kind of a response was _that-"_

"Don't 'oh' me, Wood- just bloody go to bed and leave me alone, will you?" Percy shot back, knowing Wood couldn't stand it when Percy avoided him- he liked taunting Percy too much, unfortunately.

"Who're you to tell me to go to bed?"

"A Prefect," Percy said matter-of-factly.

"That'll work on first-years, not on me-"

"Since you're choosing to _act _like a first-year, then I suppose I thought the same thing would apply," Percy said scathingly. "Merlin, there's a reason people ditch you, Wood," he rolled his eyes.

Wood drew back as if hit. _"What?" _

"You got on the train alone?" Percy prompted, shaking his head and trying to start reading again.

"And you assumed that my parents _ditched me? _Just because I got on the bloody train alone doesn't mean that I _am _alone, dammit," Wood yelled. "The bloody train isn't what matters-"

"I never said it _was," _Percy cut him off slowly, furrowing his brows at Wood, who was practically about to rip his hair out. "I meant your friends?" He hadn't been able to come up with anything else good enough, not on the first day back at Hogwarts. "Why the hell are you acting like you're having a bloody crisis over this?" He reflected for a second how odd their dynamic had become- two years ago, Percy would have thought nothing of ticking Wood off like this, and Wood insulting his family wouldn't have made Percy as defensive and hurt as he was now.

Wood shot him a glare. "I think you're suffocating your baseball," Percy informed him lightly, his gaze flicking down to Wood's hand crushing it.

"Fuck the bloody baseball," Wood snapped. "Merlin, I- you know what? I'm just- I'm going to bed," he said, looking at Percy as if disgusted by him.

And even though ninety percent of their arguments ended in someone storming away, Percy found himself staring after Wood as he left, biting his lip and wondering whether something had gone wrong.

* * *

**Oliver and his mom make me pretty sad to write :( But obviously I love writing Percy and Oliver's arguments lol**

**Also, I'm aware this chapter was much shorter than the others, but I think I'm going to try to keep the average word count for each to around 5,000 words just so it's not too crazy for people to read and so I can update quicker. (I have no idea whether this will actually happen though lol, I might just end up over-writing again)**

**And I just started typing and now I have an outline for the entire thing so YES! I feel so much better about this now lol**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**See ya next time!**

**\- Cupcakes Can Write Too**


	7. The One Where Everyone Was British

**I'm back with the next chapter! **

**I've also realized that Percy and Oliver are going to be OOC for the rest of the story, so keep that in mind- but they'll definitely be just as crazy as they've been so far lol.**

**Thank you to kikix for reviewing- your reviews are my absolute favorite and I'm so glad you like everything :)**

**Also, apparently I've been forgetting to put chapter titles in the actual document so I've started doing it again :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Seven- The One Where Everyone Was British

Fifth Year, September 2nd

Percy took his schedule from Professor McGonagall. "Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, then _Herbology__?_ That's just rude, I'm not walking that far!" Percy groaned.

Anthony swallowed his toast as the daily flurry of owls flew in. "I've got _Double _Divination."

Percy hissed as Errol landed squarely in his pumpkin juice, conveniently spraying it all onto Percy. "Errol," he scolded, dragging the poor owl out of the juice and sighing. "And now the letter's ruined." He held it up as Anthony grabbed some tissues, stopping the spread of pumpkin juice down the table.

"Your bloody owl's going to kill something if it flies like that," Wood called from down the table, and Percy sneered at him. Their argument from last night had, admittedly, kept him up for a few extra hours, but if Wood was acting normal- or, as normal as they ever really acted around each other- then Percy wasn't going to worry about it any longer.

Probably.

"I'll just launch him straight for your horrid face, then," Percy yelled back.

Errol hooted feebly, and Percy looked at the sorry little animal in dismay. "I'll have to take him to the hospital wing."

"I'll come with you, mate," Anthony said hurriedly. "I'll miss as much Divination as possible."

"We've got to take OWLs with that madwoman," Percy reminded him, and Anthony practically spit out his eggs.

"Blimey, I think I forgot," he said with horror.

"Is that Errol?"

Percy turned to see Ron, who was talking around a humongous mouthful of toast. "Yeah," Percy said, tossing his brother the dripping letter. Ron ducked away, glaring at him. "You can have the letter if you want," he called snarkily.

Ron gave him another dirty look and turned back to his food as Percy shoved a few more bites of eggs in his mouth before standing, putting his schedule in his bag, and turning to leave.

_Shlop. _

Percy whirled, nearly dropping Errol, who was still clutched in his hands, and twisted his neck to see a huge glob of marmalade stuck to his back. "WOOD!"

Anthony was grinning as he picked up a handful of mashed potatoes and lobbed it at Wood's head to defend Percy, bless him- but Wood ducked and it hit Adrian instead. "Sorry, mate," Anthony laughed.

Adrian let out a primal, dramatic roar as Sam burst into laughter. Percy shielded Errol from the chaos about to ensue, muttering to himself about _"Bloody dumb Quidditch players..."_

A pitcher of water went flying, and it narrowly missed Anthony to douse a first-year instead. "Percy," Anthony said, "How about we, er, just sneak on out of here-"

"Oh, no you don't!" Wood called as Percy agreed and they turned to leave. "You're a Prefect, right? You have to defuse the situation," Wood reminded him.

Percy gritted his teeth, but he knew Wood was right. The responsibilities of his Prefect badge wouldn't let him leave. "Er," he said. "OI!" he yelled at a second-year lifting a plate of bacon. "Put that _down! _Oh- not the pumpkin juice! _Stop _that!"

It was pandemonium, to say the least.

And then a whole bucket of orange juice was overturned onto his head.

Everyone around them froze- apparently that was all it took to stop even Fred and George from lobbing food at their classmates. The chatter in the Hall screeched to a halt as Percy sputtered, every single inch of his clothing sopping wet. He was afraid to breathe in for fear of inhaling juice, and he was vaguely aware that his entire bag and schedule had been soaked too.

_I'm going to _murder _Wood, _he thought.

Errol squeaked.

"Mr. Wood!" McGonagall said, the lone voice in the hall. Her footsteps echoed through the room as she stormed over. "Put that bucket _down!" _

And then everyone started laughing.

"Wood," Percy snarled, whirling and clenching his fists, shaking juice out of his hair. "That is the _second _time in less than _six months _that you've managed to drop a whole pitcher of something on me-"

"Nobody in Gryffindor House is to leave this Hall until every bit of this food is cleaned up," McGonagall ordered, and everyone had the decency to look sheepish. "A food fight?" she asked Wood, staring him down until he squirmed. "I'd thought you two would grow out of this," she said with no small amount of exasperation. "You _are _a Prefect, Mr. Weasley!"

"I tried to stop him," Percy said. "Even my owl's covered in juice, Professor," he said, brandishing an Errol who looked very feeble indeed.

She seemed to take pity on the owl if nothing else. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for each of you," she said. "And ten more for the twenty people who joined in with you." Percy knew better than to protest, but the Prefect badge was burning a hole in his robes at this point. "And, Mr. Wood, you have detention from now until October."

"What?" Wood asked, flabbergasted. "But Quidditch-"

"Try-outs will have to wait," she said, looking as if it caused her physical pain to say so. "Do not persuade me to make it _November." _

Wood shook his head hurriedly. "Sorry, Professor."

"Hurry up, both of you- I'll inform your Professor you'll be late, Mr. Weasley. I think you'd better see to that owl before class," she said, and with a last stern look at both of them, she walked away.

"Wood," Percy snapped, rounding on him. "My _first _day as a Prefect and you get me in trouble _already?" _

"You got yourself in trouble, mate- you started this," Wood smirked.

"I did _not,"_ Percy stammered. "You threw _marmalade _at me, Wood- what the hell?"

Wood shrugged, and Percy wanted nothing more than to _punch _him because no matter how damn good-looking he was, Wood was a git at the best of times and an arsehole at the worst of them.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 2nd

Divination was an utter nightmare from the moment Percy stepped into it.

To start off, Professor Trelawney had left on her incense lamps or some crap, so the entire room was stuffy and hot in the already warm September day. "I'm assigning seats this year," she announced when everyone had settled into their seats.

The entire class groaned, and Percy exchanged worried looks with Matilda Wesley, whom he'd always sat with during Divination. She was a Slytherin, but, all things considered, she wasn't one of the nutters. And she actually had some talent for Divination and seeing the future and all that, so Percy found it pretty easy to learn how to pretend to know what was going on from her.

"Mr. Gower with Ms. Owen," she rattled off, moving exceptionally slow. "Mr. Flint and Mr. Weasley."

Percy rolled his eyes- Marcus Flint was the slimiest Slytherin in their year- especially since he'd been made Slytherin Quidditch Captain this year, and everyone in Gryffindor automatically hated him. Personally, Percy hadn't ever really interacted with him, but he was currently throwing wads of paper at his mates and laughing, so, seeing as how this day was already going _amazing, _of course he was sitting with Flint for the rest of the year.

Flint flopped into the chair across from Percy, sneering already. "Weasel."

Percy's nostrils flared, and he tilted his head, clenching his jaw and trying not to punch something. He opened his mouth to retort, possibly with something like 'Get someone to pull that bloody stick out of your ass, eh?' but remembered McGonagall staring him down at breakfast and swallowed both his pride and the sassy response. "Nice to see you too," he said in a strangled voice that probably conveyed his disdain well enough.

Flint smirked, and Percy's blood practically boiled as Trelawney began her lesson. "Today, we'll be reviewing crystal balls," she announced, and Percy relaxed a little because faking _those _assignments was the easiest thing in the world. "Share with your partner what you see," she said in what _she_ surely thought was a mystical voice.

Percy rolled his eyes and turned to the crystal ball now sitting on the table, sticking a finger in his collar to loosen it- this room was _way _too stuffy.

"I see a load of shit," Flint remarked lazily. "Maybe it's you, Weasel?"

A muscle twitched in Percy's jaw as he stared into the crystal ball, watching fog swirl around inside.

Flint narrowed his eyes. "I see a tomato," he smirked at Percy's hair, "-whose father hasn't got _any _money."

Was his eye twitching now?

"I see a blood traitor who should have either gone in Hufflepuff or been a Squib," Flint responded nastily.

The fog kept on swirling.

"I see-"

The crystal ball exploded, showering broken glass everywhere, and Percy was glad to see a shard bury itself in Flint's arm. "What the _hell?" _Flint roared, jumping up.

"Reparo," Percy said quickly, fixing it and ignoring the stares from everyone around them. The shard _shicked _out of Flint's arm to join itself back into the ball again, and Flint hissed a breath in through his teeth. "It must have been faulty or something."

"All good, boys?" Trelawney asked, drifting past. Percy nodded serenely as Flint seethed.

"Yes," Percy responded. "We're good, Professor."

"Hmm," she said, walking off.

"You did that." It wasn't a question.

Percy shrugged.

_Damn, this class is going to be a disaster. _

He and Flint ignored each other for the rest of the hour, and when the bell rang, Percy was the first to leave the class- he'd had enough of bloody _gits _today.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 2nd

"WILL YOU GET YOUR SLIMY HANDS _OFF _MY TENTACULA?"

"THEN CONTROL THE BLOODY THING!" Oliver shot back, shoving the venomous plant at Weasley, who was red in the face and- Oliver was quite happy about this- still smelled faintly of orange juice.

"God, when you say 'tentacula' in that context it sounds like a bloody innuendo," Adrian snapped. "Merlin, Weasley, haven't you caused enough chaos today?"

Weasley threw his hands in the air. "Bloody hell, you act like breakfast was _my _fault!"

"Not to mention you broke my pot," said Mike from behind him, and Weasley groaned. He'd looked supremely pissed off about something when he'd come in, and he'd tripped over Mike's leg and broken the clay pot, much to Professor Sprout's chagrin.

"The bloody pot was _fine-"_

"My leg wasn't!"

Professor Sprout chose that moment to come back into the greenhouse, and the two of them fell silent, Oliver giving his plant a particularly vicious tug.

To be honest, keeling over into Weasley's Venomous Tentacula had probably been more his mistake than Weasley's, but Oliver wasn't about to admit to that. He'd just been... distracted.

It was one of _those_ days today. Where you wake up and everything's wrong from the moment you open your eyes.

The best part of his day so far had been throwing that pitcher of juice on Weasley, and even that- already a sad thing to revel in- had been tainted by the detentions McGonagall had later given him for it. He could tell even Weasley was a little surprised by how much they'd already argued this year- since it had only been a day- but Oliver hadn't been able to help it last night; he'd just snapped. Same with today at breakfast.

And also maybe just now with the Tentacula.

Did he have a problem?

Probably.

Was he going to do anything about said problem other than maybe stepping up his game against Weasley?

_...Nah._

"All right, class," Professor Sprout said, brushing plant slime off her gloves nearly a half an hour later as class came to an end. "I've got to give you the annual OWls speech," she said.

Weasley perked up immediately, nearly knocking his glasses off his own face as he looked up from his plant, and Oliver tried his hardest not to roll his eyes. "Clean up quietly," Sprout ordered.

Adrian elbowed Oliver as they dragged their pots back into the corner. "You're taking notes this year, right?"

Oliver raised his eyebrows as if to say _Really? _"D'you think-"

"Shut _up," _Weasley snapped from next to them. "People are _trying _to listen."

Oliver sneered at him, but tried to pay attention to Sprout all the same. "I'll be dropping your lowest grade," she was saying, "But expect a lot more homework this year."

Fortunately, the clock chimed the hour and class ended then. "Beginning today with an essay on properties of the Venomous Tentacula," Professor Sprout finished as they all dashed for the door.

Oliver groaned with everyone else as they streamed outside. "I was planning on having a practice tonight."

"Mate, it's the first day- Fred and George won't even show up," Adrian laughed. "And you need a new Seeker."

"That's true, but I'll bet you my broomstick half the team hasn't practiced enough over the summer- they need to get back in shape _fast,_ Seeker or no Seeker. And if Fred and George showed up for Charlie, they'll show up for me," Oliver said. Charlie may have been bloody insane about Quidditch, but Oliver knew himself well enough to say that he was a _hell _of a lot worse.

"I _knew _you were going to make Captain," Mike said proudly. "But, Oliver, Gryffindor really _will _murder you if we don't win again this year- we had _way _too much fun last time for it not to happen again."

Oliver gave him a determined look as they set off across the grounds. "Have a little more faith in me," he said, nudging Mike with a grin.

"Oh, dear Merlin, they made _you _Quidditch Captain?" Weasley groaned from behind them.

Oliver turned, shooting him a dirty look. "Have you got something to say about it?"

Weasley shook his head. "Only that I'd bet my life we'll lose the Cup this year."

"And you say this with what Quidditch skill yourself?" Oliver snapped. The sun was beating down on them today, and Oliver's gaze strayed to the sky- he wanted nothing more than to be up there with the clouds, honestly.

Weasley shrugged, and Oliver gritted his teeth at how _casually _he could talk about this. "You're about as good at Quidditch as Anthony is," he said, nudging his friend with a grin, and Adrian responded before Oliver could.

"I reckon Weasley's run out of things to insult you about," Adrian smirked.

"Oh, don't worry about _that, _there's an endless amount I could talk about," Weasley shot back.

"Twenty galleons, then," Oliver said. "We're _winning _the Cup."

Weasley shrugged again, infuriatingly nonchalant. "Twenty galleons it is."

"Oh, and Weasley?" Oliver said, turning away as they entered the castle, students scattering to different hallways around them. "One day I'd love to see _just _how good you are on a broom."

Weasley nodded confidently. "Absolutely."

* * *

Fifth Year, September 2nd

"Perce," Anthony said, raising an eyebrow as Wood sauntered away, "We both know you fly about as well as a-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Percy groaned. "He can't force me on a broom," he pointed out. Anthony shrugged in response, and Percy took it as a sign to change the subject.

"Merlin, that was too much Oliver Wood for one day," he said, pretending to shudder.

_That's a lie, _something muttered in his brain.

_Shut up,_ he responded.

Great, and now he was arguing with himself.

They sat down at the Gryffindor table for lunch, wary. "Nobody's carrying any pitchers?"

Anthony looked around suspiciously. "No," he confirmed, as serious as any international spy doing surveillance would have been, and Percy relaxed a little.

"Are you _sure _we're in Britain?"

"Scotland, actually," Percy responded automatically, not even knowing who had spoken. He looked up to see a first-year sitting three seats down from him, a little brown-haired girl with a decidedly American accent.

"But everyone has British accents," she pointed out.

"Most of us _are _British," said a blond second-year boy, rolling his eyes.

"Then how come there's no tea?" the girl maintained.

Anthony was grinning. "What do you mean?" he asked. "There's tea _right there." _

"But- but no one _acts _British," she said, shaking her head and fingering her braids.

Percy couldn't help but smile as well. "We're not a different species, you know-"

"Fred," George said, sitting down to the left of the girl, and Percy's grin fell away as he groaned.

"Don't even start," Percy warned.

As usual, no one listened to him.

"Am I hearing this correctly?" George asked, sitting down on her right and tutting. "This girl doesn't think we're British!" he yelled out to the Gryffindor table at large.

Exclamations of exaggerated shock went down the row.

"That's just _wrong-"_

"Look at my accent!"

"I say mate every other sentence!"

Percy was at a loss for words. _"This _is what everyone's worried about?"

"It's a good bit better than having juice dumped on you," Fred called, and Percy forced himself not to hex anybody.

"All right, Lucy-" George said.

"It's Lydia," the girl muttered fiercely.

"Libby, yes. If you don't think we're British-"

"-then we'll just have to prove you wrong."

_I suppose, _Percy thought, twenty minutes later, when everyone was very loudly and noticeably either 'chuffed' about something or 'absolutely knackered' or in one case even annoyed about hearing a bunch of 'codswallop', _that it was her fault for challenging Gryffindors. _

* * *

Fifth Year, September 2nd

Oliver was _exhausted _when he collapsed in his dormitory in one of his only free periods all week- Mondays before dinner.

"Bloody hell, that was a _day," _Adrian said, flopping down on his own bed and tossing his bag onto the ground, near his half unpacked trunk.

Even Weasley was taking a break, sprawled out on his bed on his stomach and playing wizard's chess on the ground with Anthony while simultaneously reading a book, somehow.

"I've got a bucket-load of homework," Mike called from the bathroom, opening the door and rubbing a towel through his wet hair. Oliver's stomach flipped when Mike smiled at him, winking in a way that said there might have been a few broom-closet-snogging-sessions in Oliver's near future.

"Anyone want to play Exploding Snap?" Oliver asked, looking for something to keep him occupied. He was already dreading going to sleep- he could tell it was going to be the kind of day where he stared at the ceiling and worried himself about things that didn't matter for hours at night.

Someone opened the door to their dormitory.

"Sam?" Mike called. "Is that you?" he asked, going out to see. "Bloody _HELL-"_

And someone threw two suspicious looking objects into the room and slammed the door, locking them in and Mike out with a _click_ and a loud thudding sound from the other side.

Surprisingly, Weasley was the first to react. "Get those things _out!" _he said urgently, grabbing the nearest vaguely round object and hurrying to the window.

"Blimey," Adrian said, looking back and forth from the closed door to Weasley's frantic running. "What's going on?"

_Boom. _

The ground practically shook as the object still on the ground _exploded, _spraying out a whole load of foul-smelling green gas. Oliver scrambled away from it, gagging at the smell. "What the _fuck?!"_

"Dungbomb!" Adrian said, pressing his nose into his robes. "Who the fuck-"

"Fred and George," Weasley groaned. "I'm going to bloody kill them," he muttered, his own arm thrown across his face.

Anthony got up and kicked it in the direction of the window, eyes watering. "Get it out quicker!" Oliver said, still gagging. _"Merlin." _

When Anthony proceeded to be way too slow with it, Oliver let out an exasperated sigh and scrambled out of bed, picking it up and aiming straight for the window, then bringing his arm back and throwing with every Keeper-honed muscle he had.

"Wait-" Weasley began.

The Dungbomb smashed into the window, flying out into the perpetual gloom of the Hogwarts grounds outside. Weasley covered his face as glass sprayed everywhere in a disastrous shattering sound.

"You broke the _bloody _window," Weasley said angrily after a moment.

Oliver threw his hands into the air as everyone else slumped in relief as the main source of the smell dissipated. "There was no other option!"

"There absolutely _was_ another option," Weasley snapped.

"Percy," Anthony said nervously as Weasley stormed over to Oliver until they were right in each other's faces.

"You have been ruining my entire _life _from the moment you-"

_"Percy," _Anthony said empathetically.

"Not _now, _Anthony," Weasley said, not looking away from Oliver. "And this entire day has been a bloody disaster thanks to you, so-"

"PERCY!"

And then the object in Weasley's hand that they'd all conveniently forgotten about exploded as well.

Slime went _everywhere- _Weasley and Anthony's chess board, Oliver's bed hangings, Mike's owl's empty cage.

And, of course, most of it splattered on Weasley and Oliver.

"I," Weasley said with utter misery, slime dripping down the lenses of his glasses, piled on his shoulders, running down the side of his face, "-am done. I'm done. That's _it."_

The door opened, and everyone turned, covered in slime with varying degrees of misery- although Weasley probably won in that respect- to see Mike standing in the doorway, holding his nose. "What the hell happened in here?"

Weasley took off his glasses, still looking completely depressed. "Will someone please murder my brothers for me?" he asked sadly, shaking his head and trudging to the bathroom.

It was only after he'd closed the door that everyone realized they needed the bloody bathroom as well.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 2nd

At this point, even McGonagall informing him he'd failed all of his classes wasn't going to shake Percy.

"It could have been worse," Anthony said as they went down to dinner. Percy could _swear _he could still feel that terrible, itchy slime running down his back, even though he'd spent about twenty minutes in the shower scrubbing every ounce of it off.

"What could have been worse than getting random liquids dumped on me twice in one day?" Percy asked, shaking his head.

Anthony elbowed him good-naturedly. "You could have been part of the brawl we had in the dormitory to decide who was going _after _you in the shower."

Percy shrugged miserably. "I just want dinner to be normal. _Normal. _For one bloody meal."

"You, er," Anthony said, peering into the Great Hall and wincing, "-you might be asking a little too much there."

And Percy looked in and saw that he was right, because there was a veritable supermarket's worth of teacups in use. "Bloody first-years and their American comments," Percy muttered. "Of course. We can't have a single _bloody _dinner without-"

"Well _hello _there, mate, you doin' alright?" asked Henry Wright from third-year as they came in, using the most _atrociously _exaggerated British accent.

"You sound like a duck's crapped in your vocal chords," Percy informed him.

"That's _rubbish-"_

"Ahoy, governor," someone screamed in a Cockney accent.

"Oh bloody _hell," _Percy said, dragging Anthony to a seat and proceeding to attack a plate of potatoes.

"Want a cuppa?"

"I'll give _you _a cuppa-" Percy said with vehemence.

"Yes, he'll have one," Anthony cut him off with a warning look. "You're going to make some eleven-year-old cry," he said.

"If someone spills so much as a drop of this blasted tea on me, it'll be me crying," Percy said darkly.

Anthony looked a little worried at this point.

"Well, how absolutely chuffed we are to see you, Perce," Fred said with that mischievous grin Percy was going to strangle off his face.

"Yeah, absolutely splendid to see you-"

"Give me _one good reason _I shouldn't hex you," Percy hissed. "Setting off a Dungbomb in our dormitory, _really?" _

Fred and George just smirked.

"I'm writing to Mum," Percy announced. "That's it. Maybe you can send Ginny her toilet seat along with the letter," he said sarcastically.

The twins groaned, finally shuffling off at the prospect of their mother's upcoming Howler. "We're sending her the toilet seat, though!" George called over his shoulder.

"You know, it's a bit sad that you're just tattling-"

"Anthony," Percy said with a slightly crazed look. "If anyone else so much as-"

"Weasley!" Wood said, running down the length of the hall carrying a pitcher of hot tea. "More tea?" he asked enthusiastically.

"No!" Percy said hurriedly.

"Oh, go on, have a _little _more," Wood said, and he tripped very exaggeratedly and dumped it all on Percy's head.

"Wood," Percy said with complete misery, blinking away drops of tea as everyone around him started laughing. He could feel a flush spreading up his neck- he was supposed to be a _Prefect, _dammit, not someone whom the first-years were already calling 'That Juice Boy.' "What did I ever do to deserve _you?" _

Wood gave him a dazzling smile- and oh _Merlin _was Percy going to dream about that smile, as much as he hated to admit it. "I don't know what you mean," Wood said innocently, giving Percy those big blue eyes. "I was only giving you some tea."

And that was when Percy launched himself at Wood, Prefect badge be _damned-_

"MR. WEASLEY!"

_Oh __shit-_

Percy scrambled to his feet as Wood groaned, now covered in tea from Percy's robes. Percy's ribs were aching already- Wood had managed to elbow him rather spectacularly, not to mention kick him in the shins hard enough that Percy was sure a bruise was blooming there now.

"Professor," Percy stammered, horrified. _She's taking my badge, this is it, my life is over, Mum's disowning me-_

_She's taking the bloody badge-_

"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, storming over with a deadly gleam in her eye. "I have had _quite _enough of this rivalry between you two. It is immature and childish and has gone on for _far too long. _Mr. Weasley- you're joining Mr. Wood in detention for the next month. And I am taking _fifty points _each from Gryffindor. Hopefully that teaches you a lesson."

"Professor," Percy gasped. "I-"

"And, Mr. Weasley-" Percy was going to _hyperventilate _because she was looking straight at the badge, "I'm sorry, but I think-"

"It was my fault," Wood cut in, and Percy did a double take.

_"What?"_ Percy and McGonagall asked at the same time.

"I... er," Wood hesitated, looking as if it was causing him physical pain to continue. "I did dump the tea on him. It was provoked, so... it was my fault."

Percy could have _kissed _him.

"Well," Professor McGonagall said, "It seems your detentions will have to be extended to November after all," she said, nostrils flaring. "I am going to warn you two- if you do not end this troublesome rivalry _now, _the consequences will be worse," she said, and both Wood and Percy gulped, thinking of their respective badges.

Percy let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in as she walked away, realizing tea was still dripping out of his hair. But the liquid hardly seemed like a problem next to the knowledge that he'd been _this _close to losing his badge. On the first bloody day of having it.

Wood stormed off before Percy could say anything- though he had no idea what he would have said if given the chance, so maybe it was better Wood left.

Percy turned, surprised to find half the Gryffindor table staring. "Oh, shove off," he growled to the group at large, and they all unfroze and went back to their bloody tea.

And in perhaps the greatest shock of the day, Percy looked back as he was leaving the Hall to see Marcus bloody Flint tipping an imaginary hat at the first-year who'd started this whole mess and saying "Pip, pip, cheerio," almost _cheerfully. _

Bloody hell, what a day.

* * *

Fifth Year, September 2nd

Angelina was yelling at him.

She had a set of pipes, that girl, and a confident attitude for someone about a foot shorter than him. "I _know, _Angie, but you can have try-outs without me if need be," Oliver said determinedly. "This team is _going _to win the Cup this year."

He shouldn't have defended Weasley. _Really. _Detention for one month was going to be bad enough, but detention for two? That was really going to put a wrench in his Quidditch plans.

And he had _no _idea why he'd bothered anyhow- it was Weasley. Oliver usually laughed at his pain.

"See to it that we do," Angelina said fiercely, and Oliver held up his hands in surrender as the girl stalked away, fists clenched.

"Merlin, mate, she's a feisty one," Mike said from behind him.

Oliver sat down next to him on the armchair, both of them only fitting because they were skinny. "That was a _day," _Oliver said. "As Adrian put it earlier."

Mike sighed. "OWLs year isn't going to be easy, is it?" he asked.

Oliver shook his head. "I reckon not. And it isn't going to help getting detention for so long," he groaned, leaning against Mike.

They weren't public with their relationship- they'd decided two boys snogging would be too much even for Hogwarts to handle, and neither of them really minded keeping it quiet. Mike was a private sort of person anyways, and Oliver liked being alone just fine.

But sometimes Oliver did wish he and Mike could hold hands whenever they wanted, cuddle in the common room, not have to snog exclusively behind locked doors.

"It was a nice thing you did, actually," Mike said.

Oliver looked up, Mike's eyes drawing him in as they always did. "What do you mean?"

"With Weasley. McGonagall would have taken his badge, I reckon- and then Weasley likely would have exploded on the spot," Mike chuckled.

Oliver shrugged. "It's _Weasley. _Honestly, I wish I hadn't done it."

"I know. But next time he's being a git-"

"So, like, tomorrow."

"-next time he's being a git," Mike plodded on, "You've got something to hold over him."

Oliver considered, scrunching up his nose. "Yeah, all right, but I'd rather take Quidditch practice over helping Weasley."

Mike tapped his fingers against Oliver's knuckles, giving him a wry sort of look, and Oliver had the idea that maybe Mike wasn't thinking about Weasley anymore. "Wanna go upstairs?" Mike asked, his gaze flicking to Oliver's lips for a single moment before coming up to his eyes again, mischievous.

The left side of Oliver's mouth slowly went up. "Yeah."

And so they, er, went upstairs.

_Maybe, _Oliver decided as he slunk to bed sometime near midnight, lips tingling, _today wasn't so bad after all. _

* * *

**I'm going to have a lot of fun throwing Percy into chaotic situations because he's a Prefect and he has to 'defuse the situation' lol. And, while I'm obviously writing this because I ship Percy and Oliver, I think my literary skills have officially peaked lol with "And so they, er, went upstairs."**

**Thanks for reading! Pretty please review if you liked it!**

**See ya next time!**

**\- Cupcakes Can Write Too xx**


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